MIA
by geshembo
Summary: The last thing Lieutenant commander McGarrett heard was the whistle of the Seahawk's straining engine as it was spiraling down. The earth shattering explosion indicating the crash itself was lost to him. ...This story turns out to be a tribute to the SEAL-whump goddess. I hope the non-believers among you forgive me.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So, while some of you enjoying the new season, those of us unfortunately living outside the US, need to wait, and take comfort in fanfics.

Apparently that meant a new project! The story is almost finished, and there will be chapter updates frequently after my trusted Grammer-SEAL beta Yul, digs her teeth deep into it.

The story takes place somewhere in the seventh season, as I am not yet ready to say goodbye to the cousins.

I hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to leave your reviews, thoughts, ideas and anything else you deem worthy.

The story contains description of drug abuse.

* * *

Chapter 1

As always, the stress of a work week dissipated in direct ratio to the length of Grace's hug. It was a very stressful week, the second one since he last heard from Steve, so Danny stubbornly ignored the obvious signs of discomfort in his teenage daughter stance between his arms, and kept holding her. She got the message fairly quickly though, her hands went back to their firm hold around his waist, and she stopped squirming. He was thankful for that, but not surprised. His perfect daughter, with all her teenage rage, was tuned in with his feelings.

"Everything OK, Danno?" she finally asked.

"Yeah, yeah. Just missed you. Didn't get much chance to see you lately. I'm sorry about missing your show yesterday."

"It's OK. I know you had a lot of work. I think mom filmed it. We were really good."

Danny finally released Grace as she continued to talk. Her detailed briefing on yesterday's show had the same effect as the hug. Lately it was very rare to hear so many words from her, and he savoured every one.

He did have a lot of work, especially with the head of five-0 serving his country in God-knows-where for the past month. It was like the word was out in the perps' community, that the Hawaiian special task force was one crazy ass leader short and it was time to crawl out of their holes and make Danny's life miserable. You know, just so he won't miss the crazy for a while, God forbid.

Sadly, he found out that the stress levels were not helped by the two calls he got from Steve. Naturally, the word 'Classified' was spoken several times during the short conversations, and Steve was mostly interested in hearing how things were in Hawaii as opposed to telling anything about how he himself was doing. Danny did not dare mention the liver transplant, and he had to admit Steve sounded fine and confidant as ever, but he couldn't stop wondering if his I-eat-grenades-for-breakfast partner hid his situation from the Navy, and if not, why was he out there for so long.

But maybe he wasn't out there. Maybe he was sitting in some air-conditioned control center on a carrier, supervising other baby SEALs as they recklessly throw their lives on some impossible mission.

Yeah. Right.

But all of that was a minor, nagging worry in the back of his mind now. They closed the last case last night, all known preps were now locked up or dead, (yes, dead. He attributed that to the lingering effect of their trigger happy policymaker), and a long three days weekend with his kids was ahead of him. He had it all planned. Today pizza, movies and meaningful, life changing quality talks to set Grace's confused teenage mind on the right path. Charlie would join them tomorrow, then they will take advantage of Steve's open invitation to his private beach and spend the day there. He might be inclined to actually set his foot inside the ocean to get some happy noises from his children.

A phone call from the Governor was certainly not part of his plans, but he seemed to have neglected mentioning this to her, since her name and title was displayed on his ringing cellular before he even got to his house.

He couldn't help the short loud whine that escaped his mouth. Grace looked at him in concern, he shrugged miserably and answered.

"Detective Williams."

"Detective, I am sorry to disturb you" she did sound genuinely regretful, and she paused for a long moment before she continued, maybe to allow him to respond in some kind of reassurance. He would not give her that. She should be sorry. "Detective...Danny," She was using his first name. That can't be good. "Please gather your team and come to my office as soon as possible."

She sounded so apologetic, and...something else. Sad? He almost considered giving in without a fight, but his daughter was staring at him reproachfully from the passenger seat.

"Governor, with all due respect, the team's worked around the clock for the last two weeks, we agreed that any case this weekend will be handled by HPD"

"I know, Danny" again, his first name. "I wouldn't request your presence if it were not essential." he could hear a tinge of impatience in her voice now, but she clearly held back.

"Very well, Ma'am." he audibly sighed "We will be there shortly." And that damn McGarrett will owe us till the rest of times.

He looked at his daughter, mirroring her disappointment, but she just shrugged and said "It's OK Danno, I have this project with Tammy to do over the weekend anyway. She wanted to meet this afternoon and I told her no, but I'm sure she's still up to it."

"I'm sorry, Monkey." He said while dialing Chin "I'll go see what's it all about, hopefully the team can handle it without me."

* * *

When Danny got to the Governor's office, Chin and Kono were already there. The door was closed and the secretary told him that they will wait for Captain Grover before coming in. Chin and Kono were not able to get more than that from her in the few minutes they were there.

Lou arrived shortly after, and the secretary announced immediately that "Five-0 are all here" and they were led inside.

Governor Mahoe stood in front of her table, leaning back against it. Two Naval officers stood up as they came in, and on another chair sat Dr. Hartly, the police psychologist with whom they all had the mandatory sessions .

Danny was sure his heart skipped a few beats. The odd company, their solemn faces... Something was wrong. Very wrong. He heard his own breath loud in his ears. He had to strain and forced himself to concentrate as introductions were made, and he obediently sat down when he was requested.

He sat on the edge of his seat, wishing that they would get to the point and that they will never get there at the same time.

Rear Admiral Raynes, with a stern voice and sympathetic look that seemed rehearsed, started speaking.

"Officers, I am sorry to inform you that after five days of a search and recovery mission, we had no choice but to declare Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett missing in action."

And there it was. The Point. Loud, clear and just as dreadful as his tense muscles indicated the minute he walked into the office. The room was quiet, especially now that he was no longer breathing.

He noticed the word "recovery" as opposed to "rescue". He also noticed that "presumed dead" did not follow the declaration. Two pieces of information that did not fit together, but it was alright. That way he could choose.

"What happened?" Lou's sudden question startled Danny.

Captain Tally spoke now, his voice every bit as business like as the Admiral's. "I am sure you understand that the Lieutenant commander's mission was classified, and so we cannot elaborate on the specific details. Nevertheless we will try and answer your questions as best we can. Commander Mcgarrett's team was on a mission, during which they encountered an unex… massive resistance. The transport they were on was intercepted before they were all able to extract. Commander McGarrett and his lieutenant were still on board when it crashed."

"Where…?" Danny heard himself ask. This single word was laced with anger, that he now realized was bubbling in him. _Still on board when it crashed_. Probably too stubborn to admit he was actually crashing.

"I am sorry, Detective, that is classified."

Danny sprang to his feet, the chair behind him pushed backwards noisily. Chin grasped his forearm and Danny froze in his place.

"What about the search and rescue?" Chin now asked. He used the word rescue, thankfully, he also chose the right way of thinking.

"Throughout the last several days, efforts were made to reach their last known location," the captain continued, "and we were able to rescue one of the sailors and recover the body of another. At this point we feel we've exhausted our options."

"You feel!" Danny was ready to launch himself at the Captain, Chin's grip on his arm tightened.

"We are truly sorry, Detective." The Admiral interjected, and Danny could almost believe the sincerity in his voice "Commander McGarrett knew the risks and accepted his duty nonetheless. It is a great loss, I know, not only to the navy but as I understand from the Governor, also to the state of Hawaii. You need to believe that we did all we can."

Maybe Danny might believe that, one day, if he knew exactly what happened. Maybe if he was presented with hard evidence for the effort and resources invested in this. Maybe if it was him doing all he can to rescue the stupid self sacrificing SEAL from 'the location'. Currently he could not believe that. It was not possible. This was McGarrett, and there was no way he...he was...

"No, no I do not need to believe that!" The hand that was not held in a death grip by Chin was now waving at the Naval officer's, finger pointing. "'Knew the risks' is no excuse for abandoning your men out there. I know this freaking Rambo, he is busy extracting himself **and** his lieutenant from whatever, even as we speak, and he needs you to back him up!"

"I am very sorry det…"

"Yeah, you said that! You son of a bitch, do not be sorry, get the man out of there!"

"Detective." came the soothing, melodic voice of Dr. Hartly, but it only served to anger Danny even more.

"It's OK," the Captain said to the doctor, then moved his eyes to Danny. "Detective, this might sound harsh but you need to hear it. The chances that the commander survived the crash are slim. Not to mention the time that has passed since then."

Lou released a long agonized breath. Kono leaned forward in her chair, her head in her hands. Chin was looking at him, eyes bright and steady.

Danny could not stand to listen anymore. This was not happening. This could not be happening.

He released his arm from Chin's with a swift forceful movement and stormed out of the office.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Danny set in his car at the driveway outside Steve's house. The monster truck sat there, covered in a fine layer of dust accumulated over the last weeks. Yesterday he considered taking care of that for Steve, as a thank you for letting him use his beach in his absence. Today it seemed fit to leave it just like that for him, a strange punishment for the grief he was giving Danny.

The stupid SEAL. He was probably pleased with himself, finally successful in proving his self sacrifice has no boundaries. A sanctioned mission this time, and still no one was willing to come for him.

Danny felt so tired, he could not even work himself up to be angry. He was just sad. And he hated it, because the sadness meant he was just about ready to give in. To accept that this was it. Steve was gone. And the damn truck will remain dirty in the driveway until someone will notice it has no owner, and then they will take it out piece by piece, or steal it whole, but no one would care, because the only one who might care was nothing more than burned out remains in a deformed metal monument in the middle of nowhere.

At least his precious piece of junk was safe in the garage.

Danny pulled out his phone, it was still silenced since the doom meeting at the governor's office. He didn't really want to talk to anyone, except maybe Grace, but what would he tell her?

There were three unanswered calls. Chin, Lou and Mary McGarrett. Damn.

Danny let out a heavy breath, the shaky sound of it causing him to shut his mouth and bow his head. He called Mary.

"Danny?" her voice was hoarse and broken "Steve…"

There were several seconds of silence, as he gathered himself and she seemed unable to speak.

"I know Mary. We just heard." he was surprised at how steady his voice sounded "I am...so..rry..." the last word ended with a whisper. Sorry? No, no, this was admitting defeat, and he hasn't really tried anything yet. "Listen, Mary, I am going to do everything in my power to find him, OK?"

"What…?"

"You have to hang in there, it is not over until we find...him."

"They said…"

"I know what they said. But this is Steve we are talking about. We will find him, and pull him out of whatever mess he got himself into, just as always."

"They wouldn't even tell me where…"

"Mary, we will find him, OK?"

There was no sound but her broken breath for a while. "Mary?"

"They said I can speak to one of the guys that were with him, he is in a hospital over in Texas"

"Great, that's great. Let's do that." Feeling purposeful, He started the engine of his car and backed up from the driveway.

"Will you… come with me?" she sniffed, but her voice was much clearer.

"Of course, yes, I'm gonna be there on the next flight out. You make the arrangements to see that guy."

"OK. Thanks Danny, see you soon."

The next call was to Grace. Now he knew exactly what to tell her. Uncle Steve was in trouble and needed him, yet again. She would understand that and explain it to Charlie. And it will be yet another lost weekend with his kids that his damn partner would owe him.

* * *

The first thing that penetrated Steve's consciousness was the sound of his own hitched breathing. He knew it was his, because following shortly was the pain emanating from his chest at the slight movement of his torso. He froze again.

He was lying on his back on a hard surface, his head tilted back a bit. It was an uncomfortable position but he dared not move yet.

When he got his breathing under control again, he decided to try opening his eyes. That move was rewarded with a painful headache causing him to retreat immediately. He might have lost consciousness for a while, because there was the hitched breathing again. He decided to leave any other movement to be tackled later, and concentrated on the memory of his surroundings that managed to be burned in his skull in the fraction of a second when his eyes were open.

It was blurry, but he could determine that he was in a room, since he was pretty sure there was a ceiling. It was also safe to say that the room was lit. A yellowish glow filtered through his closed eyelids, and he guessed it was a natural light. Something metallic stood on his right, it could have been an IV poll. This was all he could remember without opening his eyes again.  
Steve figured it was safe enough to strain his ears, since that specific action did not seem to enhance any of his bodily aches.

There were no other noises inside the room. In the distance he could hear men talking, but he could not make out words. Vehicle engine, maybe a truck of some kind. Wheels on mud. These noises filtered from somewhere above his head, probably the same opening that let the painful light filter in. Then someone was pacing close by, different direction, but the sound was muffled, like it was on the other side of a wall. The smell, another sense that was currently safe, was mostly of sweat, blood and urine, the air stood humid and stiff with not even the slightest movement for relief. It was hot.

Where was he?

Reluctantly he decided to focus on his own body. He obviously wasn't well, but just how bad was it? the pain in his head was widespread, and he could not locate its origin. The back of his neck hurt, maybe it was the position he was in. There was some pain emanating from his left shoulder, he recognized it as dislocation, but it was dull. Breathing hurt. Mostly on the left side of his chest. The skin on his hands and back tingled and burned. Also on his right leg. His left leg felt numb. He didn't like this feeling, so he tried a small twitch. It did seem to respond, but the numbness remained.

What the hell happened to him?

It took more effort than it should have, to try and focus on the last thing he could remember before he woke up in this room. And even then he could recall nothing more than flashes of violence and mayhem. It was an operation, he could have guessed that, but no objectives or locations came to mind. He could not even remember his team. Was there a team? It was most likely there was at least a wingman, but who? And where were they now? This gap in his memory was more frustrating than his physical condition, and much more scary. But fear was a state of mind, and he was a Navy SEAL, trained in reconnaissance, and that is what he needed to do now.

Just as he decided he was brave enough to try his sight again, the background pacing sound on the other side of the wall grew louder, and indicated more feet close by. The hum of speech became distinct words. There were angry voices, speaking Spanish. Steve decided to leave his eyes shut and remain motionless.

"... no time for your cuddling, Doctor! It has been five days, and do not think I haven't noticed the missing supplies from my personal inventory." said voice number one. He reminded Steve of his first CO, angry, quiet voice that felt like it was viciously stabbing your brain.

"I am sorry, sir" came the other voice, he was angry too, but more submissive. "But you specifically ordered that we make sure he stayed put"

"There are other ways to keep a man from moving, Doctor."

"You also requested that he be well enough for interrogation. Giving the extent of his injuries, he needs as much rest as possible and pain does not allow rest."  
Were they talking about him? Was he out for five days?

"Well, then, he's rested enough. Open the door." The ice in that voice froze Steve's blood in his veins.

A jingle of keys, then a door creaking open.

The vague hope that he was in some kind of a hospital was gone. The SEAL forced the cold fear into detached determination.

The voices quieted for just a second and then the doctor spoke again "Sir, I must insist that you give him a couple more days before…"

"We do not have a couple more days!" the quiet angry voice rose slightly, but it was still very much in control. "Do you not realize that we need this information for your sake as much as all of us?" another short pause "Will he have trouble _talking_ in his current condition?"

Steve was anxious to hear the reply to that, but the room fell into silence again, as the question was either ignored or answered nonverbally.

He could feel someone standing above him now. There was quiet breathing, heavy, sweaty body odor and the distinct feeling of eyes staring at him mercilessly. He remained limp and unmoving, while his brain was tense with alert and anticipation.

And then the numbness in his left leg was gone. The pain was so abrupt and overwhelming that he could not suppress the agonized cry coming out of his throat. His eyes tore open, his back arched, the pain in his chest and head intensified by the movement. His body went slack as soon as the pressure on his leg was released and a quiet whimper escaped his lips.

"Look," the brain stabbing voice announced in perfect English now "he's finally awake."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for the favs, follows and reviews. keep them coming!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

When Danny turned his phone on, immediately after the landing, there was a message from Joe White waiting for him, stating that he was 'on his way'. He hoped that he would come through for Steve. Joe still had many good connections in the Navy, but he was retired for a long time.

The Detective's eyes searched the crowd as he went past the gates, but he didn't have to search long before Mary's small form was hugging him fiercely, her body shuddered and she couldn't quite stifle a short sob.

"I am so glad you came, Danny." she said when she finally released him, "I felt so… alone."

He couldn't answer, so he just hugged her again and smiled mirthlessly.

"The army lady said we can come by anytime today, she would take us to see Petty Officer Clark."

"Who is this army lady?" he was well aware of the mistake in using the word 'army'. But Steve isn't here to correct them, is he? Danny shouldered his bag again and they started walking to the exit.

"She is one of the guyspeople who came to...to...tell me about Steve. Captain Goldman. She was really nice, she gave me her number, said I can call any time. And she checked up on me today too."

That's great. If only she could provide some useful information.

"Where's Joani?"

"She's staying with a friend back home for a couple of days. You really think Steve is… that he's not…"

Danny had the whole seven hours flight to contemplate this. His logic and emotions fighting for dominance, throwing him between despair, anger and hope.

"I don't know, Mary" he answer honestly. "But I am willing to believe he is alive until it is proven otherwise. And if so, he most likely needs help, and I am going to provide it."

She nodded quietly and wiped her cheek.

They took a cab to the Naval base where Captain Shelly Goldman waited for them. She introduced herself to Danny as cCasualty aAssistance cCall oOfficer, was indeed very nice and polite, the empathy seemed to be engraved in her features and the detective hated her on first sight.

It was clear that all she knew about Lieutenant Commander McGarrett was from reading, and Danny was sure that the reports she was given were more like press releases than actual facts. No meaningful information, just hollow slogans, and she spoke like Steve was already dead.

So he allowed himself to zone out while she spoke to Mary, and used the short ride to the hospital to brace himself for the coming talk.

The Hospital, like any other hospital, was a bland gloomy place. Petty officer Clark was half seated in bed, lying against the raised back. His right hand, splayed above the thin sheet, was bandaged, and when he turned his head toward them they could see the right side of his face was covered with what looked like nylon pads overlaying from his temple down to his neck and then vanishcontinuing below the robe's collar.

But he was smiling at them, offering his left hand for shaking and insisting they should call him Mason.

"So you are the yapping-claustrophobic-Williams, ha?"

Danny cringed at this description, but felt strangely relieved. It was clear that in contrast to the CAC Captain, this guy knew Steve. Mason caught the detective's expression and laughed. "Great, McGarrett, spread the word about my claustrophobia" Danny mumbled, Mary giggled slightly, her eyes seemed to well with tears again.

"It's OK," Mason said still half laughing "It is clear he thinks highly of you. He never talks about anything related to his civilian life, but when I desperately needed a distraction, he chose to tell me about you. He said that his partner is an expert in distracting techniques by constant yapping that should be studied in SEAL training." The Petty officer expression changed suddenly, the smile waned, and he leaned his head backwards, and turned his gaze to the ceiling.

Captain Shelly brought them chairs, and to Danny's annoyance placed herself on one of them. He really hoped she would leave.

Mason let out a long breath then attempted to smile again, though this time it looked like an effort.

"Captain Goldman told me you wanted to talk to me. I guess you want to hear about what happened…"

Mary laid her hand on the bed beside him and said softly "Only if it's OK for you to talk about."

His smile was now genuine again, and he nodded "Of course it is, but...thank you. I will tell you what I can. Some things are…"

"Classified" Danny completed for him, he tried to sound annoyed, but for some reason he wasn't. "Yes, we Know. We would appreciate anything you can tell us."

Mason nodded again, then his face hardened and Danny wondered if they teach aneurysm face in SEAL school.

.

.

" _I'm Sorry, sir" Petty Officer Mason Clark whispered. He knew he blew it, literally, and now the operation is compromised, Vic might be dead, and he would probably die too._

" _For what, sailor?" came the simple question from the Commander. Mason could see him spare a quick glance sideways to look at his face before returning to the mission of picking each step carefully through the lush growth of the jungle. Although they were walking for over an hour now,_ _and_ _with_ _no sign of the enemy, Commander McGarrett kept them highly alerted. There were too many surprises already._

" _I should have checked, I should have spotted it…" As much as he didn't want to, he leaned against the Commander, the long hobble taking it's toll. He knew he's lost a lot of blood, the makeshift dressing on his leg was soaked, and he could feel the warm liquid trailing down his thigh._

" _The jury is still out on that, Clark, and there would be plenty of time for analyzing when we get out of here. Currently, you need to concentrate on your surrounding, as I am too busy dragging your ass safely through hostile vegetation." Commander McGarrett chuckled suddenly._

 _Mason allowed himself a quick glance_ _d_ _toward him to see if he interpret the sound correctly. Their faces were close and there was no mistake. There was a weird smile on McGarrett's face, and he couldn't help himself and asked_

" _What?"_

 _McGarrett answered "What?"_

" _He is asking about that strange noise you just made, sir" came Shanks' voice over the comm. He was only several feet away, but they spoke softly, as to not alert any potential hostiles._

" _What noise?" McGarrett repeated_

" _I am not sure, sir" Lieutenant Shanks answered "but it sounded a lot like a laughed"_

 _The smirk returned to McGarrett's lips "_ _a_ _A_ _h. It's the phrase I used. Hostile vegetation. My partner from my civilian job seemed to rub off on me."_

 _Mason knew McGarrett was reserves, but the Commander talked about his civilian life so rarely, and everything about him seemed hard core navy, it was easy to forget. He was curious, but he did not dare to ask. Gladly, Lieutenant Shanks had no such inhibitions, he was part of McGarrett's team from his service days, and it was obvious they worked together for quite a while from the way they communicated._

" _Williams right?" Shanks asked, trying to encourage him to say something more._

" _Yes, Williams. Now shut up, we are not in the clear yet."_

" _C_ _o_ _m'on, Sir." Shanks insisted "We lost our chase about 40 minutes ago"_

 _Mason's foot caught on a root, he stumbled slightly, but the strong grip of the Commander kept him from falling. The surge of pain was unbearable though, and he groaned audibly. Commander McGarrett Stopped, looked around for a bit then eased him against a tree and started checking his injuries again. Lieutenant Shanks appeared from behind them, and lowered Vic gently to the ground beside him. He was unconscious. Mason watched as Shanks checked for a pulse, and from the length of time he dedicated to this simple task, the Petty Officer knew he was dead before the Lieutenant confirmed it._

 _He leaned his head back against the trunk and concentrated on fighting his own pain._

" _OK, Sailor, I need to stop this bleeding, but I don't want to administer any pain killers yet, because I need you alert." McGarrett looked up straight into his eyes, "It's going to hurt, but you got to stay with me. That's an order. Are we clear?"_

" _Ye..ye..s...ssir" He couldn't help the shake in his voice._

" _You are going to be just fine, Clark" the Commander continued speaking, "Just focus on my voice." Clark did as he was told, concentrating on the steady, assuring voice "This is also a technique I learned from my partner. Yap until everyone around you forget what they wanted to do. I am afraid even SEALs were not trained to deal with this." The blood soaked fabric was off the leg, and McGarrett was pressing hard on the wound with one hand while he took out a field bandage. Shanks was now scanning their surroundings. The Commander fell silent as he concentrated on switching the pressure from his hand to the bandage._

" _Rea..lly...s...sir?" Clark mumbled, encouraging McGarrett to keep talking_

" _Yes. It even worked on himself. The guy is claustrophobic, you know? And we both got trapped under a collapsed building. He got caught under a huge concrete plate and could not move, and a piece of rebar got stuck in his guts, so he distracted himself by reciting aloud Mets lineups over the years. OK, are you ready? I'm gonna tighten it now"_

 _Clark nodded, bracing himself. "Sou..nds...like…" he let out a loud groan as the pain took hold of all of his senses. He was vaguely aware of the commander hand on his shoulder now, and tried again to focus on his voice._

" _Breath_ _e_ _...just breath_ _e_ _, sailor." McGarrett ordered "That's it."_

 _He let the pain wash over him, then pushed it aside. After the initial assault, it was easier. McGarrett looked at him intently, and Mason nodded again, signaling him that he can continue._

" _You are doing_ _good_ _well_ _, sailor" McGarrett said as he turned his attention back to the injuries, "Your face looks horrible, you won't be getting dates any time soon, but there is no active bleeding."_

" _Sou..nds...like a Super...power…" Mason finished his thought from before, after he gained his voice back_

" _What?"_

" _The...yapp..ing…"_

 _McGarrett smiled "Probably is. How's the arm? Do we need to adjust the dressing too?"_

 _Clark lifted his immobilized arm. That pain was minor. He took a deep breath to steady his voice as he took back control of his senses._

" _It's good, sir"_

 _The commander helped him up and waited for him to steady himself. Lieutenant Shanks picked up Vic's body and they started walking again. Clark invested himself in finding the best possible way to distribute his weight, to allowed the commander to increase their pace. He gave up any futile attempts to use his bad leg and leaned heavily on McGarrett. The commander didn't seem to mind._

 _Ten long minutes after, they reached the edge of the clearing where their transport waited. He was gently propped up against a tree again, his dressings checked, and then Commander McGarrett put on his stern, thoughtful expression. Clark learned in the past weeks that it meant he was about to make some difficult decisions._

" _How you doing. Buddy?" Shanks crouched beside him, as the commander took out his cellular, pressed some buttons, put it against his ear and walked away towards the Seahawk._

" _I'm fine. He is going to try and salvage the mission, right?" Mason pointed with his chin towards the commander._

 _Shanks looked back for a second. "Some of it, probably. It will take a lot for him to declare a complete failure."_

 _Mason's gaze landed on Vic's body, he wanted to say something about it being too late, but could not express the words._

 _Shanks followed his gaze and answered his unspoken thought "This is just adding pressure on him to achieve at least some objectives. So it wouldn't be for nothing. And there is another life on the line"_

" _Shanks," came McGarrett's voice from behind them, "Package is still safe and can get to the secondary location. I can make it if I drop stealth, come in with the Helo. You stay with Clark, I'll…"_

" _With all do respect, Sir, you will need me more than Clark." Shanks looked back at him, and Mason nodded firmly._

" _I am fine, Sir. All I need is my friend here." Clark brought his rifle forward with his good arm._

" _I can't ask you to do that, Lieutenant," McGarrett replied seriously_

" _You are not asking, sir" Shanks was already halfway to the helo._

 _The commander turned to look at Mason, "Stay Alert, and do not leave cover until we are back, sailor. I am not losing anyone else today."_

" _YES SIR!" Clark replied immediately. Shanks was already on the Seahawk_ ' _s_ _controls, the low thump of the rotor coming to life echoed in the trees_

" _Keep your comm on." McGarrett ordered, tapping his own ear, and ran to the Helo._

 _Clark adjusted his position so he could watch the commander climb into the cabin. He heard the command for takeoff through his comm, and followed the Helo with his eyes as Shanks expertly maneuvered up between the surrounding trees, then launched forward, low above the forest canopy and disappeared from view._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"That was the last I saw them" Clark said. His eyes, full of emotions, were fixed on Mary's bowed head. He hesitated a bit, but it was clear to Danny he had more to say. The detective gave him few more seconds but when no other word came out of his mouth he encouraged him.

"What then?"

Mason looked at him and swallowed before answering. Then he looked at Mary in silence for a few more seconds, and back to Danny. "I heard them go down through the comm link. The Commander gave the order to take off… a few seconds later there were...shouting...and I heard the explosions. Then nothing." His eyes were pleading now "I tried to get to them, but… my leg, I couldn't get very far…."

Danny stood up abruptly. He wanted to tell the poor officer that he understood, that it wasn't his fault, that he couldn't have done anything, But he was afraid that if he opened his mouth now, even if the words themselves were consoling, their tone will surrender how angry he really felt. Those stupid, stubborn, arrogant-with-no-connection-to-reality SEALs! Why would Steve storm right back in there after he barely got out, with two men in his team already down! Why would he do that? And why did this damn soldier...sailor let him do that?! The rational part of Danny's brain told him that it was not Mason's job to prevent his CO from doing stupid irresponsible things. No. This was Danny's job. But he wasn't there. And anyway, he had a feeling that this damn sailor laying there in bed with extensive injuries, thought his commander was some kind of hero for what he tried to do, not the actual god damn irresponsibly idiot he truly was!

"Officer," came the well trained sympathetic voice of captain Goldman, "You did your duty, you did what you could under the circumstances."

"I'm sorry." Mason said, his eyes darting between Mary and Danny, and he looked so very young.

Danny, trying hard to control his shaking, put his hand on Mary's shoulder. She looked up at him, and he gave her a meaningful look and a slight nod, his eyes indicating towards the CAC officer without moving his head. She looked devastated, silent tears running down her cheeks, but she nodded back slightly, she understood what he wanted.

"Emm, Captain….Shelly?" she said hesitant, and stood up "You think you can show me where I can get coffee of something…?"

"Sure, Mary. Come."

Danny watched in silence as the women left the room. Then his eyes darted back to the injured man. "Mason, you said that Shanks was on the flight controls. Are you absolutely sure that McGarrett was on the Helicopter when it crashed?"

The young sailor eyes seemed to drift thoughtfully, Danny guessed he was revisiting the situation in his mind. He thanked him silently for that, it felt like he did not give up on Steve.

"Pretty sure," he answered finally. "I doubt he would have given the go if he wasn't on board, and even if that were the case, I am sure Shanks would at least vocalise his...displeasure over the com, even as he followed the order."

Danny nodded and stepped closer to the bed, leaning forward and speaking in a low voice. "Mason, I need more details. I need to be able to...verify…" he had to stop to swallow the lump in his throat. The Sailor shifted a bit uncomfortably in the bed. "Please, Mason. Can you give me anything? What did you try to do? Where was that mission?"

The young officer looked miserable, his eyes were closed now, his head bowed. "I am sorry, sir, I...I can't, I was given very clear orders as to what I may tell you…"

Danny was again hanging between sympathy and anger, his eyes bore holes into the poor man, the harsh expression didn't escape the sailor as he looked up at Danny again.

"Believe me," Mason said with a steady, honest voice "If I thought there was something I could do...I would be on a plane **south** right now, doing my best to get Commander McGarrett and Lieutenant Shanks out of the **Jungle**."

Again Danny was asked to believe. This time he actually did. He was sure this crazy SEAL would jump right into action, injured or not, but it mattered little. Danny decided to take what he could, as there was little choice. Mason intentionally used the words south and jungle. South America then. Drugs operation most probably.

Hearing about Steve's last moments was necessary, but they made very little progress here.

 _Steve's last moments_. Danny shuddered visibly, then reprimanded himself for that thought.

* * *

Steve was seated on a chair, his wrists bound together behind his back, his head was bowed, chin to his chest. It made breathing harder, but he just couldn't find the strength to lift it. He vaguely remembered being dragged from his horizontal position to this chair. He registered the pain mostly, but after his hands were pulled back to be tied, the agony in his chest and left shoulder was enough to plunge him back into darkness. When he came to, the room was bathed in the same light as before, so he gathered he wasn't out very long. His left leg was stretched outwards, it was fixed to a plank that kept it straight at the knee. and he was alone again. Or so he thought, but the minute he dared shifting a little and moaning quietly, someone came from behind and did for him what he could not do by himself: lifted his head up by pulling at his hair, then allowed it to drop again and went back.

Steve heard three loud bangs from behind him and a shout "He's awake."

"Got it!" came another voice from the other side of the door.

Steve knew it won't be long before...something, so he forced himself to look up and around, do some assessment of his situation. The door was behind him, he was facing a bare concrete wall covered with water stains and mold. The floor was concrete too. Looking at the ceiling was impossible at this minute, but he remembered it from when he woke on his back, there was nothing interesting about it either. The light came from somewhere high above him. He assessed he was in some sort of a shelter or a bunker.

The door creaked open, and two sets of heavy boots marched in. Seconds later there were hands touching him delicately, a stethoscope held against his bare back, then his chest. A short bearded man was now standing in front of him, shining a painful light into his eyes, and Steve closed them immediately and tried to move his head out of his grip.

"Please stay still," the man said. Steve recognized the 'doctor's' voice from before. He spoke english now, though his accent was heavy. "I need to check your condition."

"Let it be, Doctor" The other familiar harsh voice said. Steve forced himself to look. "You can have your fun when I'm done with him. If there's anything left." The face belonging to the voice was vaguely familiar. Steve felt he should know who that man was. Through his somewhat hazy vision, he studied the man's features, his round face, wide nose, neatly trimmed beard and moustache, heavy brows over sunken eyes. But as hard as he tried placing these features into context, giving him a name, he felt that there was no lead, no association he could cling to. He still had no idea where he was or why. He swallowed his frustration and focused his gaze on the man, ignoring the growing pain in his neck from the difficult task of keeping his head upright.

The man lifted his arm, military tags dangling from a chain held in his palm. "So, McGarrett Steven J. I must say I was surprised to find that name on these tags when they were brought to me. At first I thought maybe it is a coincidence, two men with the same name coming after me. But then the kind doctor cleaned your face up, and there you were."

Steve now knew this man was familiar to him, but it did nothing to jog his memory. He remained silent, watching and listening intently.

The man continued his speech. "All dressed as a toy soldier, army gear and all that...It is flattering actually, that you came all this way for me. But I digress." he dropped his arm and threw the tags to someone behind Steve. "You must ask yourself why are you still alive. It is very simple. First of all, I need to know if you and your friend were the only ones after us. Secondly, I know someone on my team must have been feeding you information. I need to know who."

The man made a sudden, quick motion, kicking Steve's injured left leg to the side, sending hot sparks of pain through his whole body. He took a step forward, his hand shot like lightning to grab Steve's jaw and tilt his head up to face him, now towering above him. The other hand went to his already wounded left shoulder, his fingers digging mercilessly into it.

Steve gasped, then cried in pain through clenched teeth.

"You were kind enough to provide me some leverage points, easy to inflict horrible pain. The doctor here gave me an exact list of injuries, we can start going over each and every one of them. Would you like that? Or would you simply tell me what I need to know?"

He backed off suddenly, releasing all pressure. Steve's head dropped to his chest again and he whimpered silently. "I…" he found talking was hard, his voice seemed to resist, and so did his lungs, "Don't... know you…" he answer truthfully.

The Man leaned forward again, his palm gliding gently, almost caressing, under Steve's chin and he slowly pushed his head up again. "oh...I'm sure you do." he whispered pleasantly into Steve's face. Then, again, with a quick unexpected movement, his fingers jabbed hard into his ribs on his left side.

Steve's head dropped back as he cried in pain, before his jaw was grabbed again and pulled forward. "Please, McGarrett, let's spare this. Eventually I will find out what I need to know. If you cooperate, I'll let the good doctor treat you, maybe I'll even decide to leave you behind when we leave this place." His fingers kept increasing the pressure on his chest. The SEAL stopped fighting the pain and instead let it take hold on his senses. Sometimes it was easier this way, let it become a familiar background noise that may be ignored. But it seemed the man holding him knew this technique. Another abrupt vicious kick to his left leg, and Steve cried out again. "Then, maybe, if you will be able to hold long enough for your army friends to find you, you will even make it." with a final jab to his ribs, he released all pressure again and stepped back.

Steve gave small pathetic sob. He could taste blood in his mouth, he suspected he bit his tongue at some point. His breathing came in short rasps now. It took him few long seconds before he could talk again, his voice was weak and shaky.

"Navy…" he said.

"What was that?"

Steve lifted his head wearily to look at his tormentor. "My Navy friends. Not army."

The room seem to freeze entirely. No movement, no sound.

It was only a moment though. A fast, forceful blow landed on his jaw. The power of it threw him backwards. He instinctively curled his head forward to avoid collision with the hard floor as he crashed into it. He could feel a sharp pain coming from his wrists and shoulders as he landed on them. His head lolled to the floor, but the cry of pain was strangled as the man launched forward and placed his boot over his throat. He looked down on Steve, his eyes flashing with anger as he increased the pressure.

"You destroyed my Hawaiian operation, cost me billions as you forced me to hide in the jungle for months, then you chased me down here and took my son in law. You think this is some kind of a macho contest?"

Air was not reaching Steve's lungs, his brain was deprived of oxygen and blood, tears of anguish leaked from the corner of his eyes. Yet what very little consciousness he could still hang on to was busy making sense of the words coming out of his assailant mouth. _Hawaiian operation? His Son in law?_

"You think this pain is worth some low life snitch?" The man was now leaning forward, adding his body weight to the boot "You think you can save who ever it is by dying in agony? Know this. Your silence, your suffering will cost the lives of many, unless you give me a name."

"Sir," came the doctor's voice from far away "you are killing him."

The pressure increased for a second, and then was relieved, Steve gasped loudly and then coughed, both actions taking their toll on his injured ribs. The man was now crouching beside him, examining his face, the anger in his eyes replaced by something much more chilling, a slight smile on his face as he looked at Steve in anticipation.

"F..fuck..you" Steve barely managed to breath out. He knew another vicious assault was coming and was prepared for it, but it mattered little as the air was squeezed out of his lungs with a heavy stomp to his abdomen and then the pain was too much and he succumbed to the blessed darkness.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for the favs, follows and reviews! keep them coming please, I would like to know what you like, don't like and think in general!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

" _Shanks, get us down there NOW!" It was a mistake. Lt. Commander McGarrett Knew that, but there was nothing he could do right now but hope for the best. He hated that. He hated anything that he could not control, any situation that cannot be contained, anything that depended on luck. Luck was fickle, man skills were dependable._

 _He felt he had little choice, so he made the call and went back into the war zone to retrieve the package, after making sure his injured man was safe. Lt. Shanks hopped on the seahawk with him, taking flight controls, not questioning him and not allowing the commander to leave him behind._

 _Never quit. The only easy day was yesterday._

 _It was a game of chance now. What would happen first, will they get the package safely and build some distance or will the hostiles swarming the jungle get to them?_

 _Shanks lowered the Seahawk skillfully into the narrow clearing, Steve jumped out and ran toward the trees. He located the man crouched there, signaled him to come over and scanned the shadows beneath the trees surrounding them with his rifle as well as his gaze. The man moved quickly behind him and jumped into the helo._

" _It's just you?" Steve shouted over the loud thump of the rotor, without looking at the man, eyes still scanning his surrounding. The man shouted his reply "Yes."_

" _GO!" Steve yelled even as he was halfway inside the cabin. They were about twenty feet in the air, Steve scanning the jungle, just about to close the cabin door, when he located the orange flash of an MPAD missile launching towards them._

" _INCOMING! HARD L…" Steve never got to finish the warning as the missile tore through the tail. The seahawk tilted hard to the left and started to spin, throwing him out the still open door like a ragdoll. For a second he thought he succeeded in grabbing the landing skid, but his shaky grip failed as another missile tore through the helicopter body._

 _He fell through the trees, the branches somewhat slowing his descent but tearing into his skin and muscles. The last thing Lieutenant commander McGarrett heard was the whistle of the Seahawk's straining engine as it was spiraling down. The earth shattering explosion indicating the crash itself was lost to him._

Steve woke with a jolt. He was in the same room again, but now his hands were tide to the chair's handles instead of behind him, his good calf to the chair's leg. A rough rope around his chest and upper arm completed the task of keeping his body immobile. He could still hear the helo's engine scream echo in his skull, becoming one with the dull pain.

Someone's hand was on his shoulder, the touch tentative.

"Shanks?" Steve blurted out without thinking, his vision hadn't cleared yet.

"No," whispered a female's voice "I'm Karina Rojas, Romero's wife. Was my husband on the crashed helicopter?" her voice was tense and hurried.

Steve wanted to sink back into the scene he was awakened from, he knew it was a real memory, the first clue he got as to what happened. He closed his eyes again, but the woman shook his shoulder insistently.

"You McGarrett, yes?" she asked "Please, tell me, was my husband on the helicopter?"

He open his eyes again, taking the time to focus on her and register her words. Karina Rojas. Romero. Shanks going down with the Seahawk. He moved his head slowly, not quite daring to shake it clear, and a short hoarse croak came out of his throat.

The woman produced a bottle of water, opened the cap and offered it to him. He eyed it suspiciously. She sighed and took a few sips.

"It's just water, see? here." she brought it to his mouth and tilted it carefully.

Steve did not realise how parched he was until the cold wetness entered his mouth. He tried to gulp but swallowing was hard. He coughed and groaned and she took the bottle away and waited, her eyes darting between him and something behind him.

"Where am I?" he asked when he finally got his voice under control.

She looked at him in surprise. "You do not know?"

He hesitated. He felt the answer as to his whereabouts, as to what happened was just at the edge of his reach. This woman, she could help, but if his captors would believe he knew nothing, he was probably dead. He needed time. Time to understand what was happening, time to figure out how to get out of here. "I...am... not sure."

Karina seemed to contemplate his answer, but the air of urgency surrounding her presence in the room quickly won any suspicion. Or maybe she didn't care. "You are in Duarte's camp in north Colombia. We haven't moved yet, but it's going to happ…"

Her explanation was interrupted with a soft knock on the door. She looked up behind him and he heard the door open. A voice spoke in spanish "You need to go miss Rojas."

She looked back down at him, her urging expression froze for a second, then her features contorted with contempt. "We will talk later, filth" she spat in his face to make her point and left without another word.

Steve was now left with the knowledge of where his was. His captor's face had a name now, and a context, the memories drizzled into his battered mind in flashes and images. But it was not the newly gained knowledge of the man's cruelty and determination that caused the cold grip on his heart. It was the memory of an injured sailor who was left behind with a fallen one, as well as the crashing Helo holding Lieutenant Shanks and Romero Rojas.

* * *

"Operation Haywire." Joe White announced as the door closed behind him.

Danny looked at him incredulously. "Are you serious? Who comes up with these names? It's like they knew it was all going to hell before it even began."

Joe half smiled, looked around at the small hotel room, walked over to the big windows leading to a small terrace and drew the curtains shut. The dim afternoon light was gone, leaving the room in darkness.

"It's mostly a random name generator" he answered seriously, leaning back against the curtains.

"All the more a sign from the goddess of chance…" Danny commented. He stopped short before switching the lights on, looking back at the former navy officer "Is it ok if I turn on the lights, or is talking about secret operations with the lights on will cause some disturbance in navy secrecy code?"

Joe just rolled his eyes and shrugged.

Danny flicked the switch "What do you know about this operation?"

"Actually," Joe crossed his arms on his chest, sparing one finger to point at the Detective. "It seems that _you_ should know a lot about it."

Danny frowned "Steve never tells me anything about these things, Joe. He wouldn't even tell me what flight he is on when he goes out playing with military grade ammunition for the Navy." He tried hard not to sound frustrated.

"He took an oath" Joe defended his protege, but with little conviction. "Anyway, it is not what I mean. Does the name Andres Duarte mean anything to you?"

Danny's hands were shoved in his pockets momentarily before coming out again to wave at Joe. "Yeah, Drug baron, we took out his entire operation in Hawaii almost a year ago. We had a good informant, took out most of his men, he got away. There are rumors he is licking his wounds in Colo...oh." Drugs. South America. Steve. It all made sense.

"Yeah." Joe confirmed and nodded "Steve convinced the Navy that Duarte was far from wounded, that shutting Hawaii was just a scratch for him. Turned out he was right. He insisted on leading a small rescue operation to secure your informant before a big raid on his Colombian compound. Someone screwed up the recon, they encountered unexpected resistance. The rescue team, as you know, was mostly gone, and the raid was aborted until further intel."

Danny remembered the case very well. It was handed to them straight from Governor Denning when Duarte's people made the mistake of trying to blackmail him. It was part of the reason he didn't run for office again. The identity of their informant was known only to the governor, Steve and Danny himself. As far as Danny knew his identity was never compromised, and the CI decided to stay with the man he betrayed, to help bring down his worldwide operations. That earned him much respect from the SEAL and from Danny himself. When he thought about it in retrospect, Danny wasn't even a bit surprised Steve decided to follow through with this.

"So they are intending to get more intel?" Danny asked hopefully. Maybe if they continue to gather information, it will include something about Steve's fate.

"I doubt it." Joe crushed his hope immediately "Steve was the one pushing this. He is gone now, and they are busy looking for someone to blame." he straightened up, leaving his stand next to the window, taking a step towards the detective looking at him intently "And I am afraid it would be easy to pin this down on someone who won't be there to defend himself. If they do that...it would mean the operation will be buried indefinitely."

Danny's eyes widened, he opened his mouth twice before anything came out of it. "Are you saying it is more convenient for them to leave Steve out there? Is this why they called off the search?!"

"No, no, Danny." Joe shook his head vigorously, "It would probably be more convenient for them if he were never found, but we are talking navy politics here, not a conspiracy theory. I do believe they have done everything they could, invested all they were willing to risk to find them, under the assumption they might still be alive. Then, after several days, the logical thing to assume was that they didn't make it and the levels of worth had changed. This is not a decision made by politicians, it is a decision made by sailors. The politics comes after, exploiting opportunities."

Joe's explanation did little to calm Danny down. He was pacing the small space, waving his hands. As much as he kept pointing to Steve how reckless his plans were, he never doubted that the navy SEAL commander thought them completely through. In his crazy SEAL perspective naturally, taking the recklessness into account as an acceptable risk. He would never, ever, be stupid enough to jump into something like this without full, solid intel. "I can't believe this! I can not believe this. Joe, if Steve is to be blamed for something in this, it would be for not retreating when he should have. There is no way he would risk his team's life with half baked intel!"

"I know, Danny, calm down…"

"Do not tell me to calm down!" Danny was shouting by then, ignoring the pained look on Joe's face "It is not enough that he is out there because someone did not do their job right, they are going to say that it was his own fault!"

"Danny, Please, I am sorry I mentioned this. We need to focus on getting him, rather than fearing for his good name."

"And how do you propose we do that?!" the detective's frustration was at a boiling point, both fingers were pointing frantically at Joe. "How do we get to a place the navy itself is afraid to go? Ha? What can _we_ do?"

Joe kept Danny's gaze but remained silent. Danny was breathing hard through his open mouth. The last two days were spent in getting as much information as he could about that operation. Now he had it, but he could not think of a single thing he could do with it.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"That was the first thing I tried, Kono." Danny exclaimed, throwing his hands at the direction of the phone. "I have no way to know if this line of connection is still even monitored!"

"OK, Danny, I'm just asking" came her voice from the speaker, the annoyance in it matching his own.

He huffed air noisily. He shouldn't be shouting at her, but he couldn't help it. He felt so helpless, so tired, but the minute he would admit to himself that all options were exhausted would be the minute Steve will truly be dead. So he can't let that happen.

He spent the morning talking to the Governor, Wade Gutches, Steve's contacts in the CIA, they all promised they would do everything in their power, but until now that didn't seem to be enough. Danny's power didn't seem to be enough. So he yelled at Kono to stop offering the obvious, of course he tried contacting their old CI. They needed fresh unconventional ideas, they needed to think outside the box, they needed some crazy ass plan, they needed….Steve.

Danny closed his eyes, hiding the dreary site of his hotel room from view and conjured up Steve's office in his mind. He wasn't really sure why, but he needed to be there right now. Maybe he hoped that some of the craziness would linger in its air, and give him some inspiration. He could not leave Texas though. Now that he knew Steve was in Colombia, he was not able to put anymore distance between them. This theoretical proximity was empty, futile, didn't really bring him any closer to Steve, but he hung on to it nevertheless.

"I know." he said with his eyes still shut "I'm sorry Kono. Did you hear from Chin? Did he make any progress in Halawa?"

"I don't know. Haven't heard from them yet, but it'll take time. We put quite a few of Duarte's lackeys in there. You know Chin and Lou are going to be very thorough with each one of them. In fact, I feel useless here right now, I was thinking I'd go help them. Jerry can hold the fort for a while, he will contact us with any news."

"Yeah, OK, that's good." He was suddenly very eager to end that call. Kono's voice did nothing to assure him. "Keep me posted."

"Sure. Hang in there bruh. We'll get him back." Exactly what he didn't want to hear. Again with the obvious. He'll hang in there. He has no choice. About the second part of her sentence… by now It took all of his positive thinking just not to decide the opposite, and positive thinking and Danny were not friends. He disconnected without another word and placed the phone on the night stand next to the bed with a heavy movement.

Danny rubbed his eyes, digging into them painfully, until when he opened them again, red and orange spots blurred his vision. He blinked a few times to clear it, then sipped from the stale, cold coffee that still set there. Maybe his next step should include getting fresh coffee. Simple enough. He was putting on his shoes when he heard an impatient knock on the door.

"I'm coming, Joe, I'm coming!"

He swung the door open, but it wasn't Joe on the other side.

"So, Danny, do we have a plan to get my son back?" Doris McGarrett asked without a preamble as she entered the room with no further invitation.

Danny never thought he would be so glad to see that woman. He resented her for what she did to Steve, he even sometimes thought it would have been best if she just stayed dead, but right now she meant hope beyond his expectations. He had no doubt that in her weird, disturbing, get-some-lucky-psychologist-wealthy way she loved her son and would do anything to help him. And she certainly had a useful set of skill that was just what he needed. This and...well, a plan.

"Hello Doris, good to see you, no, as a matter of fact I have no idea, and no plan. It seems that a wack job McGarrett's mind is needed to come up with one, and up until thirty seconds ago I was out of McGarretts."

She did a quick sweep over the small room, making it look even tinier, then dropped her duffle bag on the bed "Well, good thing I'm here then. What do we know?"

"Emm...I was just about to go out to get some much needed coffee. I'm sure you could use one after your long...or short...or whatever journey."

Doris seemed annoyed as she looked at him, but after few seconds of carefully examining his face in which he made no effort to conceal how terribly tired he was, she muttered "Fine. Just make it quick."

Danny nodded, but the minute he stepped out the door he found out that he himself saw it as an unnecessary delay. They had no time for this. He wanted to tell her what he knows, he wanted her to tell him what she knows and he wanted to do something already. So he went back to the room, ignoring the puzzled look on her face, and ordered a coffee pot to be sent to the room.

He quickly updated her with what little details they had, she did not have much to add, but as Danny indulged in his fresh coffee, she took over his laptop. Another McGarrett family trait, the tendency to borrow without asking. She used it to delve into the Duarte case information.

"This informant," Doris suddenly asked, startling Danny a bit after long minutes of silence "Who is this person?"

"I...can't..." he shrugged. "It's classified" he declared with a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

"Danny, I need all the inform…"

"If you would convince me that this person identity is an important factor in whatever operation we decide to execute, I'll tell you. Currently it's enough to know that we have one. Or had one. We have no way of contacting this person, so it really doesn't matter."

She looked annoyed again, but before she could say anything, his phone started buzzing loudly. The display blinked with the familiar Jerry Alert signal. He wondered for a second why did the guy didn't just call, and then his phone rang, HQ number was the caller ID.

"Jerry?"

"Detective, I'm patching you through. The line is secured, there is a 'Hot Gambit' on the line asking specifically for you, wouldn't ta…"

"Patch him through!" Danny ordered. It was the stupid code name he hoped to hear ever since the details of operation Haywire became known to him. Hot Gambit. Their Duarte CI.

"This is detective Williams. Who is this?"

"Detective, this is Hot Gambit" The voice on the line was not familiar. It was a woman, their CI was a man. She spoke in a low voice.

"No. No you are not." Danny answered firmly. "Who are you?"

"Alright, I...know of Hot Gambit, Detective. Worked with him. I do not have much time, but I do have information about...your lost friend?"

Danny didn't think his heart could beat any faster, but these words seemed to have that effect. He managed to press on the speaker button, and raised his eyes to meet Doris's.

"OK, Go ahead."

"Is the line secured?"

"Yes, please, tell me what information you have."

"Your friend is our guest in El-Mico for now, but he will not stay this way for long. We are preparing to move."

"He...is he alive…?" Danny's hand was gripping the phone hard, his knuckles white.

"Yes. but that may also change when we move."

Danny could hear Jerry's loud exhale and a tiny relieved "oh!"

"Who else is on the line?" the woman asked with alarm

"It's ok, he is a colleague. Trustworthy. What is our friend condition?"

"Not good. I am willing to help, but you will need to hurry. If...you come for him, I will go with you. You will need to promise American citizenship, immunity and witness protection. Yes?"

"If we get him back safely, no problem" He was sure the Governor would play along. It didn't matter really, he would worry about it later.

"I need to go. I will make contact again when I can."

The line went dead. Danny needed to remind himself to breath. He dropped the phone onto the bed next to him and buried his face in his hands.

Steve was alive.

* * *

Shortly after Karina Rojan left, the door opened again. Duarte and the doctor stepped into his view along with a few goons. One of them placed a small table where the doctor pointed, and then stepped back and stood beside Steve. One more goon took position on his other side.

Steve forced himself to take interest in the events around him.

Duarte stood in silence, his eyes flickering between Steve and the doctor, as the latter started pulling things out of a bag and placing them neatly on the table.

It was a show, Steve knew that, a technique to build tension in the captive as he wonders what was about to happen and what fresh hell was about to descend upon him. The fact that he knew didn't really change anything. The tension was building, he did wonder what fresh hell was about to descend on him, and he fell back to his training- his expression kept blank, his mind alert.

Duarte's voice broke the silence and he turned his full attention to Steve.

"I was convinced that pain would not get us anywhere with you." he informed Steve, small smile decorated his lips now, he was clearly pleased with himself. And maybe Steve's insistent silence and seeming lack of interest was getting to him, because he decided to press on to get a reaction. "So the doctor here suggested we see how you react to pleasure."

He laughed mirthlessly at Steve's reaction to this statement. The SEAL's eyes shot to the table, for a moment uncertainty passed through his features. "What is this?" Steve asked.

"Well, the doctor may have treated your injuries" Duarte continued, obviously encouraged by the SEAL's reaction "but his _real_ specialty is Chymistry. He has some new concoctions he needs to test." he walked to the table, picking up a syringe filled with clear liquid. "Thanks to you messing up with our business, he had some time for R&D…" he stepped closer to Steve, holding the syringe between his finger and thumb, wiggling it a little as he looked at Steve. "You know me, I'd like to stick with what I know best, so it is mostly Crack Cocaine." He Leaned toward his constraint captive, his face inches from Steve's, whispering "Short term effect. Highly addictive. Even after just a few doses…" he straightened up again "The Doctor did some work so we would be able to better compete with these new age meth cooks. Longer period of effect, mixture to allow cheaper cost. The usual stuff." he returned the syringe to the table. "So what do you say Five-0? Are you going to tell me what I need to know now, or later on, while begging for another fix like a common junky?"

Steve didn't answer. He concentrated on calming his breathing. The doctor finished his preparation, and turned to his boss.

Duarte looked at Steve again, Steve did his best to hold his gaze in defiance.

"Carry on, doctor" Duarte said.

Steve tried to fight his binds as the doctor tied a thick rubber strap around his arm, he knew it would not help, but he had to do something.

"Don't do this." the commander ordered the doctor. "Don't do this!"

The doctor didn't even look at him as he inserted the needle into his arm, pressed the substance in, and then released the strap. "You should feel the effect very soon," he explained to Steve kindly, "A few seconds, no more."

Steve could feel how his throbbing body was injected with renewed energy. He released it with a quick strong motion towards the doctor who was now examining his pupils, and almost fell with his chair. He continued to struggle, until the two guards held him down forcefully, leaning against his hands and shoulders.

"I'll kill you!" he shouted at the doctor, then his next shout was aimed at Duarte. "I will kill you, and set your whole god damn operation on fire!"

Duarte looked at him, his expression serious and calm. "You were right, doctor. He doesn't handle pleasure very well."

* * *

 **A/N: Favs, follows and reviews are like chocolate covered pineapple. I love pineapple. Please feed me!  
**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The world was tilting. For a few minutes his fuzzy brain wondered how did they manage to set the chair strapped to his body upside down to hang from the ceiling, he felt the blood rushing to his head, but then the floor and the ceiling traded places again, and again, and it repeated itself until he could not hold onto the meager content of his stomach. He shivered and dry heaved, and cried in pain as the contracting muscles sent pulses of agony through his chest and shoulder.  
Steve could have managed all of this, the nausea, the pain, the constant shivering. What scared him was the comfort he found in the knowledge that he would feel better soon. That any second now the doctor will finish his notes and look up to his boss, and Duarte will nod, pleased with himself, and the needle would be inserted in the crook of his arm and he would feel better for few more minutes.

Maybe it will last longer this time.

That thought was terrifying beyond anything he ever experienced, and he tried his best to push it aside. "No...no…"

"What was that?" Duarte was upon him again "You wanted to say something?". The Drug baron's fingers grabbed Steve's hair and he used it to pull his head up and hold it there, watching his face closely.

Steve chuckle lightly at his enthusiastic response. He was wearing Duarte out, as much as he was wearing Steve out. Both were wishing it would be over.

Maybe he should just tell him who the guy was. Put them both out of their miseries. Why does it matter? Romero was dead anyway. Went down with the Helo. He would tell him, and it will all be over. Maybe he would even get the satisfaction of seeing his shocked face when he would find out it was his own son in law. One of his most trusted men. And then Duarte will shoot Steve, or dose him to death. No one will know, no one else will be hurt. How much time had passed since the goatfuck operation? Six days? A week? It was clear that the other half of the operation was aborted. No one was going to raid the compound. He was injured, incapacitated beyond helping himself, and alone. It was the right decision to abort the mission, he should have listened to himself and do the same. It was obvious now that the only danger Romero was exposed to, was the god damn rescue operation. Bad decision after bad decision, he should just end this.

Steve focused his gaze and looked directly into his captor's eyes. He could suddenly feel his heart rate racing at an impossible rate, a violent tremor attacked every muscle in his body, sending stabs of excruciating pain from every single laceration. "Why...won't...save us...both...time…." he filtered the words in between hard breaths, trying to mask the whimper threatening to escape his lips. "and...just kill...me…"

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" Duarte whispered into his face "It can be done, just say a name...very simple..."

It was simple. Romero Rojas. Dead traitor. Simple...no harm done...

"Gracie...left wide receiver...Grover left guard...Williams Center...on defense...Kalakua... middle linebacker…"

Duarte's puzzled look lasted for few seconds, and then he used his grip on Steve's hair to throw his head to the side and walked back.

"I think he had enough for now, doctor. Let him be for an hour or two, let's check how desperate he becomes for his next fix. He already stinks like a fucking junky."

The doctor placed the cap obediently back on the needle and set the syringe he was holding on the table. He spared a second to check Steve's pupils again and then disappeared behind him, walking after his boss. The door creaked open, then shut again with a clang.

Steve dropped his head to his chest and released the soft sob he was holding.

He was jostled from his half consciousness with a cold water jet hitting his body like million small needles digging into his skin, and couldn't hold the hoarse cry out of his throat. The attack lasted no more than a minute, and covered every inch of exposed body parts, but when it was finished he found himself strangely thankful for it. It was somewhat of a relief, though Steve had no illusions that relief was not the purpose of the brutal hosing he just had. He was left wet and shivering, but his now damp, cold skin and bandages felt strangely better than the insufferable fever of a few minutes ago. And he felt a bit cleaner.

His mind was clear enough right now to appreciate it, as well as to understand that it would not last. The shivering rapidly became uncontrollable, painful tremors, and the cold moisture evaporated to be replaced with sticky hot sweat. His clear mind surrendered to the fuzziness of high fever and drugs as it was assaulted with erratic thoughts of needles, explosions and shouts.

The door behind him opened, he came to really hate this noise, but now it felt like it was bringing strange hope. Maybe this time it will all be over.

"Commander?" came a hesitant female voice "Are you awake?"

He didn't answer. He didn't want to be awake. Maybe she would go and the doctor would come with his needles. A hand was placed tentatively on his shoulder, the cold touch on his flushed bare skin was not unpleasant, and he moaned involuntarily.

"Commander, please tell me, was my husband on the helicopter?"

Steve remembered vaguely that question from before. It took him few seconds to process where and when. Karina Rojas. Romero's wife.

He lifted his head to look at her. However, when his eyes met hers she retreated and so did the cool touch. There was something in the way she looked at him he could not understand.

He wanted to believe she was just concerned, he wanted to answer her question, but he couldn't. Maybe she was just another form of torture, here to give him the comfort of the cool touch just to be taken away, like those damn drugs.

"Listen, Commander," she leaned forward again and whispered close to his ear "I know he worked with you. I know he was Hot Gambit, I knew it from the start, he never hid it from me. I just need to know...if…"

Her warm breath against his ear and the words she were saying swirled in his mind, he dropped his head again and closed his eyes, fighting back an onset of nausea.

"Please..." her hand was back on his shoulder, he focused on the touch.

"I'm...sorry...yes, he was there." he answered. She did not respond. his voice was so weak, he wasn't sure she even heard. But then her hand was gone again. He could feel her move back, the strange comfort of her closeness withdrawing.

"'M sorry…." he said again without opening his eyes.

There was silence. He thought maybe she was gone, or never there, Maybe he lost consciousness again for a second, because he felt a fresh onslaught of tremors, pain and vertigo serving to emphasize it was not there a second ago.

"Listen, commander. Are you with me?" her voice came again surprising him. "Look at me!" she commanded, still whispering but her voice was very different from the hesitant plea before. He complied, lifting his head and peeling his eyelids. She crouched close, her face directly in front of his, searching his eyes. He made an effort to look attentive.

"I contacted you team. They know you are alive. If they come, I am going to help them get you out. You need to hang on."

"My...team?" Vic was killed on initial contact, Clark was injured, Shank went down with the Helo, even if he survived, Shanks was in no better shape than Steve.

"Yes, I spoke with detective Williams…"

Cold fear surged through his fevered veins, jerking him back to full alertness just like the stabbing water jet from minutes before. "What?! No...no!"

She backed up a little, clearly stunned by his reaction. He mastered all the authority his battered body and mind would allow him, "You need to...contact him... immediately... tell him to back off…" Steve felt panic taking hold of his senses, and he was powerless to fight it. The drugs enhanced terror was too much for him to control. Danny would not back off, he would never back off, but Steve can't have him come here, he could not stand the thought of it. "Tell him...tell him I'm... dead" his chest constricted, his words came out as short, breathless coughs "tell... him... it's...late...I'm...Dead…" The room around him was swirling now like a hurricane, his muscles spasmed painfully. Karina's Image was blurring, swirling with the room. This was too important, he had to clear his mind, he had to control his breathing. He thought he was shouting in pain or frustration, but he could not hear any sound above the rush of blood in his ears.

He could not tell how long it lasted. But when the room cleared again, and the pain receded, it was replaced by the now familiar feeling of energy and euphoria of the drug. Karina was gone, and instead it was the doctor's face in front of him, shining a light into his eyes.

"Aha! You are back with us." The doctor said with overt satisfaction "We had to almost double the dose this time." He explained in that kind patient voice again, like he was working Steve through some painful but much need treatment "Your body is adjusting quickly to the drug. We will have to take it down a notch if we do not want the risk of overdose."

Steve did not answer. He needed to focus, to find a way out of here, before his team attempt a rescue. A fresh drug dose running through his veins could give him an edge he could use. He just needed to figure out how.

* * *

"No, no, it is a bad idea, Danny." Doris was adamant "If you inform the Navy, they will take control over the whole thing, we will be left on the sidelines."

"Is that a bad thing?" Danny retorted "I mean, it is their job, and they are most likely to succeed in it. Now that we know Steve is alive, they won't be able to ignore it, they will have to do something." It was true that what he wanted most was to get to Steve himself, make sure that the idiot was alright, see it with his own eyes, and pull him out of there in one piece. But he knew better. It was a job for trained Navy SEALs or something.

"Will they?" Doris challenged

"What do you mean?!" Danny exclaimed "Of course they will! Leave no man behind, one for all all for one, he's not heavy he's my brother stuff? No politics when there is something to be done...right, Joe?"

Joe didn't have time to respond, as Doris continued "Listen, if you tell them, most chances are that they will question the credibility of the information anyway, and decide to do nothing. They won't share their plans to do nothing, not at first anyway. Maybe they'll make some attempts to get more confirmation about this. And then, after few days they'll decide they can't take any direct action and move this to the diplomatic channels. They may even success in getting back Steve's **body** in a year or so."

Danny shook his head, his mouth slightly open but a side for few random syllables he was not able to get anything out. He looked at Joe for help.

"I am afraid I'm with Doris on this, Danny." The detective recognized Joe's mild effort to sound regretful. "The navy already busted a rescue operation there, and the intel we have is from a questionable source at best."

Danny wanted to protest but instead dropped his head. The source **was** questionable. It was not their CI, and it may very well be a trap of some kind. The only reason he didn't question it was because he wanted so badly to believe that Steve was alive.

"If we are to have any chance to get Steve alive," Doris added, "It has to be done now, with the resources we have."

Danny was still letting the statement sink in when Chin's voice came from the phone's speaker "I may have something we can use. Marcus Goar, one of Duarte's former men doing time in Halawa, said that the compound near El Mico does not belong to Duarte but to a holding company traced back to Carlos Bacal, one of Colombia's... the world's, actually, Banking Billionaires. He says that although there is no way to prove Bacal's involvement, or even if there was a way- no one will follow that lead, but Bacal holds the right to drop in, on short notice, at any time. He sends his men there from time to time to make sure Duarte's still worth it. Goar recons that it happened more frequently in the past several months since Duarte took the blow in Hawaii."

"Is this information credible?" Danny inquired. **That** piece of information he felt he could afford to question.

"I think so," came the answer from Chin. "After we agreed to his price to get this information, he was very pleased to reveal he already gave it about three months ago. To Steve."

Joe chimed in "It makes sense. Steve did some thorough work on his own before approaching the Navy. It sounds like something the Navy could not, or would not need to use, but we can."

"So the plan will be to impersonate Bacal's inspection squad and get in the compound?" Danny asked "How? how do we convince Duarte that we are Bacal's people? It would be very easy for him to check this out."

"If we can use this Gambit woman," Jerry suggested "We can make sure all communications in and out of the compound would be down for a while. Come to think of it, we might be able to do it ourselves if you can get close enough before getting checked."

"This can buy us enough time in there." Lou continued "but we will still need to be very convincing so he won't shoot us down on sight."

"You are all forgetting one little tiny detail here," Danny warned "Duarte knowns us. He knows who we are, he knows how we look. He made it a mission to study Five-0."

"I'm not Five-0." Doris declared.

"Me neither." Joe commented.

Danny sighed. He did wish for a crazy McGarrett plan. It looked like he was getting one.


	8. Chapter 8

chapter 8

It was sheer determination that kept Danny from moving from his impossible position. Well, determination and the very logical concern accompanying the thought of horrible, violent death that even the slightest twitch may cause. He witnessed Steve doing that same thing, more than once, Danny did not spare him his piece of mind each time, before and after, and one time even during, the deed itself.

And now it was him, clutching the truck's undercarriage in a death grip and daring to breathe only in small quick gulps. He took solace in the thought that now, from this point of view, every word he spoke against it was unadulterated truth. It was every bit as terrible as it looked.

The truck slowed, then stopped, and he saw heavy boots approaching the driver's side door.

Someone spoke, Danny could not understand the spanish, but the tone was very clear. He imagined he said something like "go away or get shot". Joe answered, his tone assertive just as the other one's. Then a short radio chatter. A few more commands, heavy boots running and shuffling, and the truck was advancing again. Forward. A good sign hopefully. It was another five minutes drive before they slowed down again, and Danny was grateful for the heavy duty straps keeping him in place. Although he didn't trust them enough to loosen his own grip just yet, his trembling muscles warned him that soon he will have no choice.

Words and commands were exchanged, the truck's engine stilled, doors opened and slammed, and then relative silence. He counted slowly to thirty, then dropped his head back and looked around.

"Clear on my side" he heard Chin's whisper in his ear piece. Chin hung beside him in the opposite direction, his legs next to Danny's head.

"Clear" Danny responded after scanning his side again. He released his grip and moved his hand to release the buckle, falling none too gracefully the few inches to the ground.

"Driver's side eight o'clock, about ten feet," Chin suggested.

"Go." Danny responded and they both rolled from underneath the truck and ran the short distance to the structure indicated by Chin. They sat side by side in the structure's shadow and took some time to get their bearings. Both of them studied the compound thoroughly, etched the layout to their memory, so that even in the growing darkness they would find their way easily. The problem was getting from place to place without being spotted. A door nearby slammed, and shortly after Doris's voice came over the comm.

"They locked us in until after confirmation and took the truck keys. Let's hope Bacal'll come through."

Their initial plan took an interesting turn when they decided to take a risk after getting some intel about Bacal from the CIA. Analysts assessed that Bacall's patience with Duarte was growing thin, and the knowledge that he was holding an american navy SEAL hostage might be the last straw. Danny made it a point not to know what the details of the agreement with the billionaire were, he had no doubt it was something very illegal, and a good chance immoral. His desperation was just enough to let him turn a blind eye, but not take active part in it. Now he just hoped it would be worth it.

"Do not wait, find him and get him out if you have a chance." Joe instructed.

"Copy that" Danny whispered.

"We are near the south west corner offices" Chin observed. "The rendezvous point with Gambit is three buildings to the east. We should head west and go around."

"Be careful" Ordered Joe.

"Let's go" Danny signaled the direction with a slight nod.

They ran quickly through the open areas between the buildings, then stopped and reassessed their progress at each hiding point. It was a slow advancement, and the knowledge that Steve was somewhere nearby, hurt and probably very much alone, made it feel that much slower.

They reached the isolated shed, the blue painted door was slightly ajar. Gambit should have known about their arrival, the open door and the padlock placed carefully on the left side were a pre-agreed upon sign. They readied the guns, took position from both sides of the door and on cue slid it open and entered. Another unknown risk to be uncovered.

The woman inside stood with her face to the door, holding a gun. She was about Danny's age, her expression radiated resolve and authority, but still the stress was clear on her features. Her dark eyes moved for a second between the two of them, then set on Danny.

"Williams?" she asked hesitantly.

He nodded. His gun was still trained on her, as well as Chin's, but she lowered her own and stepped forward to close the door behind them, locking it with the discarded padlock.

"Come," she motioned toward a crate in the corner.

Danny locked eyes with Chin. both kept holding their guns, looking at her.

"Where's our friend?"

"I will take you to him after I make sure my fa...Duarte is not there. You will have to take out the guard outside…."

"Wait," Danny interjected "your what?"

She looked at him in silence for a moment, her lips pursed together in a thin line, her face pale.

"Romero is...was my husband." she finally admitted "I am Duarte's daughter."

Danny lifted his gun from where it was pointing now back to aim at her face. He was not sure what he could do at this point, but the admission caused his throat to tighten, and so he transferred the sentiment to his gun.

"Detective, If I were to betray you I would have done that already. Believe me, my loyalty was with my husband, not my father. If it weren't for Romero's determination to bring him down, we would have been long gone." Danny could see her fighting to keep her voice calm and even, yet a touch of anger filtered into it "I will honor my husband's wishes by helping you rescue McGarrett, I will do it for that damn fool." her voice now broke, a barely noticeable tremor, she pursed her lips again, probably to gain control back, before she spoke. "I will do this one thing and then I am through with my father, with five-0 and with this life."

Danny noticed Chin's gun, that before was pointed at the woman in response to Danny's move, was now lowered again. He followed suite.

"OK." he said simply.

The woman turned to the crate and opened it "As I was saying, there is always one guard outside. Sometimes they leave one inside also." she pulled out two sets of hats and rifles identical to the ones used by the guards roaming the compound "Take these. Your clothes will have to do." she looked at the two men and then pointed at Danny with her Chin, "you will have to get a bit dirty and cover your hair. You stick out like a beacon. After you get your friend you will not have much time, you will not be able to move around freely even with those."

Danny took the offered goods, then looked at the woman again. There was a question needed to be asked, although he didn't really want to hear the answer.

"How bad is he? Would he be able to walk?"

She sighed silently. "I...can't tell. He was badly wounded when he was brought, and although he got some treatment, it was just so he would be lucid enough to give information. His left leg is broken but fixed. His shoulder had been dislocated. He has broken ribs, concussion and many lacerations on his body. This was from the crash. He had more...damage inflicted on him in the last few days, he is probably dehydrated and I believed he developed a fever. And…" she dropped her gaze to the floor "and he has been heavily dosed...with cocain."

The detailed answer was more than Danny had bargained for. His body shook with contained anger, and he almost let it take over him. He heard Chin muttering something through the white noise in his ears, and then a hand landed on his shoulder and he flinched back.

Chin still kept his hand held up in the space between them, "Danny," he said firmly "Come on, let's go get him."

"Yeah…" Danny mumbled in a low voice, blinking the red haze out of his head. "Let's get him."

* * *

Steve was sure his heart was going to burst right out of his chest and escape the raging inferno that was his body. The only sounds coming out of his mouth were sporadic groans and whimpers when the muscles twitching in his left leg caused him to inhale sharply and enough air entered his lungs to allow him to breath out a noise.

A dose was administered, but it was obviously not enough. He needed more. He wanted more. He told himself that this craving was for the dose that would finally kill him. He didn't need to feel better anymore, he didn't need a relief, he just needed it to be over.

But one thing he still had control over, some control at least, and the agonizing storm was kept mostly inside, leaking out only by a random miserable moan.

"The name, McGarrett! Give me the name!" Duarte roared at him, his fingers pulling at his hair, shaking his head "You fucking sonofabitch! What is it to you, you are dying anyway!" The fact that Duarte seemed unable to keep his own storm inside, gave Steve something to hold on to. He smiled at Duarte, what he conceived as a taunting expression. At this moment he wasn't even sure he could articulate a name even if he decided to. And anyway, he suddenly felt the darkness creeping over him, and he welcomed it for the relief it was..

"O, no you don't!" Duarte screamed, he shook Steve's head again to keep him awake, "Doctor!"

The prick of the needle was a minor sting amongst the overwhelming sensations from every nerve in his body. But the almost immediate effect got his attention.

His heart was still pounding in unbelievable pace, his skin still burned, but it all became minor as he was able to take in his surroundings again. The face in front of him was red, the mouth twitched at an ugly, almost deranged expression, eyes flashing with uncontrolled anger. Steve felt like he was winning.

A phone rang and Duarte stood up, releasing his grip on Steve's hair as he answered the call, spitting a harsh "qué?" into the device. The doctor was looking at Steve intently and shook his head sadly.

"You know," the doctor started talking in his professional, kind voice "that feeling you have right now? The euphoria? it is part of the effect. I expect the effect to last very little at this stage."

Steve didn't answer. He knew it was so, it didn't matter. It only had to last enough for him to kill Duarte and the doctor. And it seemed the agonizing twitching in his right arm counted for something, he could feel that the rope around the wrist was now loose.

Duarte shot at the doctor in spanish "We have guests. I'll be right back for the show. Make sure he remains conscious. You!" he pointed at one of the goons they used to keep Steve at bay through random vigorous attacks "Stay here." Then he disappeared with the other guard, the door closing behind him.

The doctor turned to attend to his supplies, the other man leaned against the wall on Steve's left, the tension leaving his body after his boss exited the room. He was looking around half staring into space, obviously bored. He tapped his fingers on the rifle hanging loosely on a strap around his shoulders. The mild sound digging into Steve's eardrums as if it was a jackhammer. But the SEAL's eyes were fixed for a few seconds on the gun, holstered on a shoulder strap on his right.

Steve started wriggling his wrist, fighting the already loosen bonds. It took a few seconds for his hand to get free, and then it moved quickly to the ropes on the other hand.

"Hey!" his guard noticed what he was doing and shot forward. Bracing himself for the pain, the SEAL leaned his weight on his broken leg, then shoved the chair back and turned sharply. The guard tried to correct the direction of his charge as his rouge captive got out of the way, but Steve already pulled the guard's gun out of its holster and shot. A few quick discharges into the man's guts, The sound swallowing Steve's own painful screams. The man fell forward with his momentum, hand grabbing the side of the chair and dragging it and the SEAL still tied to it, down to the side with him.

The doctor exclaimed in frustrated dismay, "What are you doing? you will just hurt yourself more!" in that same kind caretaker voice. But then a thud was heard outside the door.

Steve, for the first time, was now half facing the door from his position on the floor, so he was able to see it as it burst open and two figures stormed into the room.

Without hesitation, his drug heightened senses served his natural instincts, he aimed and fired.

* * *

 **A/N: Finally Steve got to be a SEAL. was it worth it? stay tunned :)**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Danny!" Danny could hear a voice calling him. He thought maybe it was Steve's, but he wasn't sure. He saw him for a split second before something hit his chest and he staggered backwards, the crushing pain blinding him.

A strong hand held his arm firmly, and he held on to the steady touch.

"Are you hit, brah?" Chin asked. Danny felt the hand guiding him back against a wall. He took quick stock of his body. His chest hurt, but the pain felt more of a punch than a puncture, and it was receding. Breathing became possible again. He was fine.

"Danny! Chin, did I hit him?!" the panic in that raspy voice forced Danny to open his eyes again, and he looked at the man, half tied to a chair, sprawled on the floor.

It felt like another punch to his guts. Steve wore nothing but his underwear, his battered body on display, covered with bruises and filthy, wet bandages soaked with blood. His left leg was a colorful mess tied to a dirty plank with rough ropes. And his eyes- wide, dark pupils impossibly large, staring at him with panic. But he was alive, and he was talking. Danny swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

"No, no, I'm OK, Steve, it didn't get through the vest." he closed the space between them quickly, Chin at his side. "My feelings, however, are badly bruised, you just shot me, you dimwit," Together they lifted Steve and the chair from the ground. Chin's gun never changing its aim, pointing at the short man that stood at the back of the room next to a table, his hands in the air.

Danny continued his observation "though I must commend your accuracy, considering your miserable state."

"Danny," Steve breathed "You... need to go, now"

Danny kept his eyes on the bonds, the damn ropes that tore into his partner's skin, he had to peel them off carefully. _Keep talking. If you talk you do not throw up._ "You know, I never thought your attempts at killing me would ever be so...direct."

"Danny, listen to me!" Steve insisted. His voice was suddenly weak, but he spoke in his full I-am Lieutenant-commander-McGarrett-boss-of-the-world authority, "they probably heard the shots, they'll be here any second, you need to go!"

"Shut up, Steve...Just...shut up"

"He is right, you know," the other man in the room spoke suddenly and Danny could feel Steve's muscles tense at the sound, the spontaneous reaction fueling his own anger that he worked so hard to tame. As Danny bent down to work on Steve's tied leg, the man shift slightly. Danny looked up. Steve was holding his gun with both hands, muscles trembling, but the gun was pointed at the talking man, and the expression on Steve's face was hard and pained.

Then he fired.

Danny heard the man drop behind him and Steve's arms slacked in his lap, but he still held his head up, taking short, hitched breaths. The Detective didn't bother to look at the fallen man and returned his attention to the ropes. If Steve needed that man to be dead, he would not argue. From the corner of his eye he saw Chin stepping towards the door.

"Can you stand?" Danny asked, as the last rope was discarded.

"I...Let's find out."

Danny reached and placed his hand around Steve's back, placing his palm under his armpit and gently pulled him up. Both men stifled a groaned, Danny a bit more successfully than Steve.

Steve was leaning on him heavily for a second, causing the pain in his own chest to blossom again, but then the weight lifted slowly as the SEAL shifted carefully.

"You Alright?" Danny examined his friend's face. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, he didn't like what he saw from the minute he laid eyes on him.

"Yeah, yeah…" Steve's answer was almost a whisper. He shifted again and groaned as his left leg buckled under him. Danny tightened his grip to stabilize him.

"Chin, It will take the both of us" Danny called softly.

"OK. Let's clear the hall first." Came Chin's answer

"Stay put." Danny ordered Steve, and moved to lower him back to the chair, but Steve Shook his head.

"No! Not...that chair, just...let me lean against the wall for a minute."

They moved the few steps towards the wall, Danny eased his grip but tightened it again as a tremor shook Steve's body violently.

"I'm...fine, Danny, go... clear the hall"

The last thing Danny wanted at that time was to leave Steve, even for a few necessary moments. He just found him, after thinking he was dead, and from the looks of him that was still a viable possibility. He hesitated, keeping his hold onto Steve.

"Go, Danny...we don't have much time…"

Danny released him, watching as he steadied himself against the wall, his hand grabbing the corner of the small table. "OK. we'll be right back. Stay still."

He turned his back on his partner and rushed to the door, clicking his own earpiece as he moved.

"We have Steve." he informed. "Our favorite Rambo fired some shots before we got to him, just to make our lives more interesting. We will probably need a distraction."

"Copy that." Joe's voice came through the com. "Duarte just left us, he might be on his way over. We would be ready for your signal in...two minutes"

Chin and Danny cleared the hall quickly. No one seemed to be coming their way just yet, but outside the bunker, a rush of activity took place. Karina with her Jeep were still there.

When they got back to the small room where Steve was held, The SEAL stood in the same place they left him, but a small utility vest hung from his shoulders and he was shaking and breathing hard. It didn't prevent him from pointing his gun at them yet again.

"It's us, SuperSEAL," Danny announced with a tired voice, "Please don't shoot me again."

Steve just laid his head back against the wall.

"Come on," Danny took his arm, trying his best to be gentle, registering the soft groans and the heat radiating from his friend. Chin mirrored his movements from Steve's other side. "As contrary to your doomsday prophecy, no one seem to be interested in your target practice, probably due to the fact I was the target. Our ride is still outside."

"Who else...is here?"

"Well, Joe and...Doris." Steve made a strange noise, something between a cough or a choke and a moan. Danny continued "Kono and Lou are waiting outside the compound to cover our escape if needed."

"No, not good, Danny, tell them to backoff...mines, IEDs all ov…." Steve suddenly stopped, another violent tremor going through his body, and his head dropped. The low, guttural growl coming from him sent cold fingers down Danny's spine.

"Steve?" his own voice came out shaky. Steve's answer was a pitiful moan, and Danny almost stumbled as Steve seemed to be having trouble holding himself up. He felt Chin adjusting his grip to support more of Steve's weight and did the same.

"Come on, Buddy, just a few more steps." and then a ladder. How the hell are they going to get him up that ladder?

"OK…" Steve blurted between hitched breath, then after few seconds "I'm fine."

They continue to shuffle slowly towards the exit. Danny could feel his partner's heart pounding strong and fast through his own arm on Steve's back. The SEAL kept silent, his head hanging forward, his eyes shut.

They lowered him carefully to the floor against the wall, taking few seconds to get their own breaths back under control.

"Danny?" Came Joe's voice in his ear. "What is your status?"

Danny looked at his watch. it took them almost six minutes to cover about two hundred feet. "Standby" he replied. He looked at Chin, who was looking at Steve then up the ladder, And Danny knew the lieutenant was thinking the same thing.

A radio cackled from one of Chin's pockets, then a short stream of words was coming of it.

"It's Duarte." Steve informed them.

"Who is this Doctor?" Chin inquired "Is that the dead man inside?"

"What is it?" Danny demanded. The radio emitted several more angry words. Danny did not understand the meaning, but the tone was clear.

Chin already pulled out the little device and was presenting it to Danny "It's the radio from the guard Steve downed. Duarte is requesting to speak to 'The Doctor'"

Steve's breaths seemed to even, his right hand was now stretched across his body, massaging his left thigh. "Yeah." he said with a tired voice "That was the... guy I just shot" there was no emotion in his voice, just simple notification. Steve's hand moved to a pocket in the vest he was wearing, pulling out a syringe. Danny looked dumbstruck at his partner as he took the cap off the needle with his teeth then leveled it to his left arm

"Hey, Hey! What is that? What are you doing?" Danny found his voice again

"It's...I...need this, so... would be... able…"

Danny crouched next to him and snatched the device out of his hand, registering how easy it was, how weak and slow his partner was, but filing it away as irrelevant information at the moment.

"Danny…"

"What is that?" Danny demanded again, examining the clear content intently.

Steve huffed weakly and shuddered. "They...drugged me, Danny. Its...some sort of...cocaine based concoction. If I'm going...going to get us out of here…"

"First of all, **you** are not going to get us out of here. In case you did not notice that would be **my** job, secondly, are you completely out of your mind? You want to inject some cocaine concocai… conc... this drug to your system?"

The radio in Chin's hand was shouting again. "They are coming," Chin warned

"Look at me, Danny!" Steve demanded. Danny did look at him. His eyes seem to wander in Steve's direction every single chance they had since he first saw him, alive and battered, in that small stinking room. He looked and saw every bit of his friend, and needed to fight the urge to go out there and start shooting at every single one of those bastards who were involved in doing this to him. Steve continued "We've just been made...and Duarte is...I would not... be able to make it…. one step up that ladder… and you know it..." Danny knew. Steve couldn't even bring his voice to sound as pissed as the words coming out of his mouth. "I **hate** what they did to me...I **hate** that I... need it, but right now... I do. Please, just…"

"Steve…"

"Do you…" Steve breathed and shuddered again. A low groan escaped his mouth, his jaw was set and Danny knew he was fighting yet another wave of pain. "Do you have a better idea, Danny?"

In all the times his partner asked him that same annoying question Danny has never felt as desperate for a better idea as much as he did now.

He felt like throwing up. He held the syringe tightly in his fist for a few more seconds, becoming aware of the pain caused by his own fingernails digging into his palm. Aware of Chin's silent stare at the back of his head. Aware of how desperate his strong willed friend must be. Then he handed the syringe to Steve. He forced himself to look as the SEAL expertly and with little hesitation buried the needle in his arm, the inside of his elbow was already covered with so many puncture marks. Then Danny shut his eyes tight for a second, the gesture causing the accumulated moisture in his eyes to leak. He dismissed it in a quick wipe with his hand and looked at his friend again.

Steve's head was leaned backwards against the wall, his eyes closed. When he opened them, they were dark and glazed, and he seemed unnaturally alert compared to his state few seconds ago. He held out his hand to Danny, his gaze following the gesture. "Help me up. Let's go."

* * *

 **A/N: I feel like I need to apologies after this chapter. I'm sorry...:)**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Steve was trying very hard not to stir. He concentrated on his breathing, keeping it even and low, tempering it with the hum of the engine. His head was laid against the metal of the Jeep's floor, the point of contact on his temple felt cool against his flushed skin, but that was the only comfort he could find in this achingly uncomfortable position. That and the weight of the gun held in his hand and pressed against his hip. He also knew that moving would not bring any relief, there was no relief for him in the near future. The dose he took few minutes ago was already wearing off, and he was not going to take another one. Not unless he would absolutely have to. Not in front of Danny.

So he just laid there, still as stone, on the floor of the Jeep, covered with a heavy canvas that chafed his raw skin, and didn't move. He felt the vehicle shift when his friends took their seats, and then they started to move, but it was no more than a few seconds before an abrupt halt pulled a groan out of his mouth.

 _Inhale. Exhale. slowly._

Someone was approaching the jeep, gravel mashing under heavy steps, then a harsh, angry voice penetrated his fight to remain in control, causing his muscles to tense in an uncontrollable response, his grip on the gun tightened.

Duarte.

"What are you doing here, Karina?" He demanded in Spanish.

It was dark, Steve tried to calm himself, Danny and Chin were wearing military hats shadowing their faces. Duarte will not recognize them.

"Why do you care, father?" Her voice was defiant, Steve could hear Duarte's boots shuffle.

"Do not talk to me like this!" Duarte hissed angrily, Karina didn't answer, and the silence lingered a few seconds before the drug baron spoke again "I thought I told you not to come close to our prisoner. What did you do?"

"I did nothing…"

"Do not lie to me!" the tamed anger in his tone was too familiar, and Steve hated the effect it had on him. A Shiver went through his body and he had to stifle a whimper. The SEAL's thumb moved lightly, sliding on the stock of his gun. He had the element of surprise. He could just get up, take aim and shoot. Two seconds. Objective met. Mission accomplished.

But that would put Danny and Chin at risk. Steve had no doubt that Duarte was not here alone. The Drug lord continued "Are you the reason I cannot contact my men in there?"

"I do not know why you cannot contact your men!" she answered, her voice was angry too, but she seemed in control of it. "They are **your** men! You made it very clear, Father, so clear that they felt they can dismiss me."

Boots shuffling the gravel again. Is she making her father feel uncomfortable? His voice was still hard when he spoke again, but not as angry "There was a report, shots were heard."

"So what, you think I shot that bastard?" she spat back. Steve had to admire her calmness. This time Duarte paused with his answer, and Karina claimed the silence "It was you who sent my husband after him, Father, and these are **your** men that are not able to find him. Yes, I wanted to know if he saw Romero, maybe…he knew…" her voice broke. it was an amazing performance. Or maybe not a performance. He heard her taking deep breath, then her voice steadied again, "But if I'd want to shoot someone responsible, it would be **you**."

"You don't mean that, child" Duarte's voice was almost unrecognizable, rimmed with softness and concern.

"I...don't, father." her voice was also soft now "I am sorry."

"I will find him, Karina. And I will find the traitor who caused that. I promise you."

"I know, father" she sounded so subdued now. Steve was in awe at how she played her father. She made Steve's relationship with his mother seem normal.

"You must not come near here again. We have guests, the timing is not good. Go back to your barracks. You! Do not let her out of your sight!"

There was silence for a few minutes, nothing but the combined sounds of vehicle engines. Then the jeep sprung forward, throwing him against the back wall and sending him into a haze of pain.

He must have let out a groan cause he heard Danny's annoyed protest "Careful!" and then "You OK, buddy?" but he could not answer.

"We don't have time to be careful, he is going to find out McGarrett is gone within two minutes." Came the cold answer above the roar of the engine.

"Joe. go. now." was Danny's answer. He felt a hand fumble gently through the canvas and Danny whispered "Hang in there, Steve."

The hand went away and Steve needed all his attention to keep from crying out with every bump on the unforgiving dirt road. But it was a losing battle.

Soon other noises joined the monotonous hum of the moving vehicle. There was shouting, gun- fire, explosions. There was no point in staying under cover now, and the SEAL wanted to join in the fight. He tried to get up, but the canvas covering him was suddenly so heavy, his muscles so weak.

"Danny!" he called desperately. He couldn't hear his own weak voice. It grew unbearably hot under the heavy fabric, and breathing became even harder. He needed to get out. Why did they stick him here? Why did they get him out from Duarte's confinement just so he could die as helpless and strangled as he was before, tied up to that chair? At least there he had the short, questionable comfort of the drugs…

 _No, no, these thoughts, they weren't right_.

"Danny!" he tried again. The sounds of the fight grew distant. But so did the noises of the engine. Was he even in the jeep anymore? The Darkness was choking, the world swirled. He had to get out.

The SEAL released his grip on the gun, and spread his left palm on the hard metal surface below him. He hung on to that knowledge, hard surface _below him_ , pressing his palm against it, grounding himself and gathering his will. Then he threw all his strength into getting up. Fighting off his confinement, releasing himself.

"Wow! Steve! Stop the car! Stop it!" Danny was shouting

"We are not far enough! They are on our heels!"

"Stop it NOW!"

Steve was thrown backwards, still entangled under the canvas, the sudden jolt expelling what little air he felt left in his lungs. But then the canvas was gone, and there was fresh air against his damp skin, and Danny was standing next to him, his hand on the back of Steve's neck, face inches from his. "Steve? You OK, babe?"

His body shaking. His left hand shot up to grab Danny's arm. He gulped in the heavy, saturated jungle air. The panic receding quickly, leaving mostly exhaustion and shame.

"Yeah, yeah, I….couldn't...the cover...I couldn't breath."

Danny squeezed his nape lightly, "I'm sorry, buddy. Come on, we don't need this anymore."

Chin was beside him too now, and both of them moved him to the back seat.

In the darkness he caught a glimpse of Karina's face, the gleam of her eyes mostly. The memory of pain in her words, the only thing that seemed real in the conversation she had with her father, surfaced in his mind.

"I'm sorry." He whispered to her, but it was Danny who answered.

"For what?" He sat beside him, while Chin hoped to the passenger seat in front. Karina hit the pedal even before he was completely settled. "You good, babe?" Danny's hold on him moved to his shoulder.

"Yeah...I'm fine." he needed the focus on him to change "Where's Joe? Doris? Did they get out?"

"Yes, they are on their way to the rendezvous point with Lou and Kono. We took separate routes."

Steve closed his eyes. Something else was bothering him, something he was forgetting. He concentrated on it, pushing the waves of tremors and jolts of the car out of his mind. They were out of the compound. His team came for him. His team.

"Karina," he suddenly asked "Shanks...the helo pilot and Romero?" he felt he knew the answer to that. She asked him if her husband was on the helo. But the way she talked to her father...maybe they were still looking for them…

"There were two burned bodies in the helicopter wreckage." she answered, her voice dry.

He swallowed, violent shivers wrecking his body. Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe the news.

"Clark?" he asked, bracing himself.

"He's fine," Danny answered immediately, "We met him in the hospital. And he was very happy to meet the famous yapping, claustrophobic detective Williams. Thanks for that, doofus."

Steve couldn't hold back the chuckle, as painful as it was. "Good. that's...good."

His eyes felt heavy, he was exhausted. But they were still in Duarte's jungle. He wiped the sweat from his eyes and peered into the darkness between the trees, trying to catch the sound of pursuit. He thought about looking up, trying to get his bearing, but that thought itself was enough to send his whirling mind into vertigo again.

"Danny, the north roads, they were littered with mines."

"Yes, we know. We read all your mission reports and Clark's briefing. We are on the north-eastern side of the reservation, moving east."

"They...they had...we weren't ready...intel was…"

Danny's hand was back on his nape. "I know, buddy."

Karina suddenly spoke "Romero hid the phone in one of the buildings. My father's men found it. Romero deleted everything after each correspondence, but Duarte has a guy in the provider's company. They pulled enough information to figure out the method the messages were encrypted, though not who the informant was. So they were ready for you. Romero was safe but had no way of warning you."

Steve ran all the events of the mission in his head. His fuzzy mind fought him, but he preferred focusing on that than on the signals coming from the rest of his body.

"So when I asked him if he could get to the secondary location?"

"You were talking to Javier Alphano. Duarte's hacker genius. Romero was there, he heard the conversation. They didn't know where the secondary location was, and he hoped to get there first, to warn you...I did not agree to go with him." Emotion finally penetrated her last words, leaving it hard for Steve to question her further.

"I'm sorry." Steve said again, and felt Danny's grip on him tighten. She didn't answer.

They drove through the jungle in silence. Danny divided his attention between Steve and the road behind them, but no other sound other than their own jeep engine could be heard. It was hard for Steve to remain alert. Although he had not been lying on a hard surface covered with suffocating canvas anymore, he could still feel every bump on the road, and soon all his attention was again on managing the pain, and pushing away the thoughts of the two syringes still buried in his pocket, filled with the clear substance.

Then the car slowed to a stop, the change of pace jarring him back to full awareness.

The darkness around him was deep, but he could see movement between the trees, and he tensed.

"It's OK, babe" Danny's soft voice invaded the night sounds of the jungle. "We are almost clear, it's the backup."

The silhouettes approached them, and their voices revealed their identity.

"Hey, boss." came Kono's whisper and then "Good to see you alive, McGarrett" from Lou.

He couldn't answer with more than a smile, which they probably could not see in the darkness, but it didn't matter.

They helped him out of the Jeep, he thought he heard Joe's voice asking him something, but by that time the darkness started invading his mind as well.

And then he was lying again, on his right side, but it was better than before. He was lying on a blanket, another one was placed over him, and his head was rested on something soft.

A cool hand was gently stroking his left cheek, the touch so alien and so familiar at the same time. "It's alright, Steve." came his mother's soothing voice from somewhere above him. "I've got you. You can rest now."

He thought how strange it was that he found it so easy to believe her, after all she had done. And still, he let the darkness take all the pain and fell asleep in her lap.

* * *

 **A/N: You might find this chapter a tad anti-climax... I promise, action follows soon!**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Danny's determination to stay alert was no match for the monotonous hum of the truck's engine and the gentle rocking of the paved road. His eyes slid close even though he knew they were still in danger. They will be until they'll be aboard the plane several hundred feet in the air and across the sea. He wasn't falling asleep, his explained to himself, he was just resting. They got out, all of them, there was no sign of pursuit for the last several hours, they were on the move. And Steve was here with them, alive. He could reach out his hand and touch him. It was what he hoped for, what kept him going the last few nightmarish days, since he walked into the Governor's office instead of taking his daughter home.  
"Steve?" Doris's voice pushed softly through the fog in Danny's brain, he felt himself gently pulled back to wakefulness. A second later she called her son's name again, but this time the urgency in it cut through to him like a knife and he jerked awake.

"Steve!" one of her hands was still on her son's face, but instead of the gentle touch she was now shaking his head. The other hand did the same to his shoulder. She threw a short glance towards Danny, her eyes wide in alarm, the look itself pulled him the rest of the way into full awareness and sent his heart pounding. And then she called "He's not breathing!"

"No, no, no!" Danny rolled to his knees beside them, doing his best to control the shake in his hands as he help her roll his partner on his back "Do not do this, Steve! We got you out, you cannot do this!"

He spared a quick glance upwards and hit the switch on the van's roof. The light was dim, but he blinked a few times as it assaulted his eyes. Doris was half crouched over Steve, both hands on her son's cheeks, casting a shadow over it that didn't allow Danny to see his face even with the light. But he didn't have to. He realized that for the first time since they found him, his partner's whole body seemed to be at peace. No violent tremors or continuous shivers, no stifled groans, no short, hitched intakes of breath...

Danny's own body switched to autopilot, thankfully, because his mind seemed to insist that shutting down all functions is the best way to handle things. His right hand pushed under his partner's neck, tilting his head backwards to open his airways, but it was his left hand that took over the desperate task of finding a pulse. What he found was weak, erratic jumps.

"Doris! The bag!"

They were ready for this, he told himself. They didn't really know what they would find, so they were ready for anything. They knew this might happened, and they prepared themselves to deal with it. He knew what to do.

"Danny, should I pull over?" came Lou's voice from the front seat. He could register the worry there, but dismissed it as he heard his own voice calling back, "No! Drive!" it seemed to him that creating enough distance between Steve and the horrible dungeon would be enough to bring him back. "Come on, buddy!"

As Doris moved away, turning to get the emergency bag, Danny started to go through a checklist. Airway- Clear. Breathing- None. Cardio- Irregular.

Doris shoved an ambu-bag into his hand.

"Kono! Get back here!" Danny commanded, he looked up to see that she was already there. He placed the mask over Steve's mouth and nose and Kono, without a word, held it tight with both hands. Doris was placing the defibrillator pads on his chest.  
Danny's hands were no longer shaking. He counted, his eyes fixed on Steve's face.

 _One, two, three, four, five, squeeze._

And again. His eyes moved to Steve's chest when he squeezed the ambu-bag, watching the rise and fall.

again.

He fixed his attention on the sounds coming from the defibrillator, instructing them in a calm, mechanical voice.

They were ready. They would help him. Steve would be OK.

 _One, two, three, four, five, squeeze._

High pitch warning came from the device, they pulled back, Doris pressed the button, and a second later there was a sharp intake of breath, coughing, and a nerve racking groan.

Horrible sounds. Danny never felt more grateful.

"OK, he's OK," Kono reported out load, and Danny could hear Lou release a long deep breath.

"Easy, Buddy, you are OK. Breath." Steve was clutching Danny's arm. His eyes fluttered open. He seemed to be taking Danny's advice for a while, taking in air between subdued moans.

Danny just watched, his own hand on top of Steve's, reassured by the strength in the tight grip his partner kept on his arm.

Steve started shivering, and Doris removed the pads and placed the blanket over him again.

"What...happened…?" Steve inquired, his hold on Danny loosening. Danny was not ready to let go just yet. He kept his hand on Steve's.

"What happened, you ask? What happened is that you decided to check out for a while. maybe test how prepared we came? I don't know. Who can tell what is going through a crazy SEAL's mind? Lou!" he suddenly shouted, turning his head toward the driver, "We need to get to a hospital!"

"No, Lou, continue to the airfield!" Doris countered "we can't, Danny". Steve moved uneasily below him, and Danny finally released his hand just to place his palm on Steve's shoulder to hold him down.

"We have no choice, Doris. He almost...He just...Look at him!"

"Duarte has men everywhere," Doris explained angrily "I can guarantee he is now watching all hospitals in the area…"

"We can protect him…" Danny insisted

"How? Do you think they just let you get into a hospital with rifles? We'll all be exposed..."

Danny felt his anger and frustration taking hold. "He might not survive a five hours flight! He needs proper care, antibiotics, for heaven's sake you can grill steaks on him! Lou, Hospital!"

"No…" It was Steve protesting now.

Danny tore his death gaze from Doris and directed it to the man lying below him. "What?"

"No hospital... too risky…"

"You, My friend," Danny said incredulously "Have no vote in this."

"Not a democracy, Danno" A smile crept onto Steve's lips. It was weak, fragile, but it was there, and it was enough to wash Danny's anger away.

"Yeah, you got that right. But we are not in Hawaii, and you are **not** the dictator. That would be me. And the risk, Steven, is you. In your condition, which is quite miserable I might add, on a plane, hours away from any acceptable medical attention. I am not doing this...this... taking orders from a zapping machine again while watching you fail in the very basic human functionality of breathing. Not doing this again."

Steve was looking at him silently, a pitiful version of his displeased aneurysm face on display.

"You are not fine!" Danny exclaimed before his partner had a chance to speak. Steve just closed his eyes, his face tightened and his muscles tensed, as if to validate Danny's statement for him.

Doris had the decency to remain silent. She reached and wiped her son's sweaty forehead.

"Joe?" Steve asked when he seemed to gain control again "Where's Joe?"

"He is fine, In a trailing car, with Chin and Karina." Danny answered.

"You have comm?" Steve lifted his hand towards Danny in request.

Danny frowned "What are you thinking, buddy?" he inquired as he handed him his earpiece.

"Navy." was Steve's reply. "Joe, USS Lincoln, should be deployed in the Caribbean." He was looking at Danny as he spoke to Joe through the comm. "It can dispatch a medevac…" He remained silent for a moment, then handed back the earpiece to Danny. "How about it, benevolent ruler?"

Danny wasn't sure. "They...would come get you?"

"I'm assuming I am still...on active duty." Steve replied. His eyes slid close again, and Danny couldn't help holding his breath. But Steve just seemed to withdraw into himself. Danny watched him in silent, as it was obvious he was fighting to keep his composure.

When he opened his eyes again, Danny asked "What's the plan?"

"They would take me onboard. The ride should be no more than an hour, in a helo fully equipped for medical emergency."

 _But I won't be able to keep an eye on you,_ Danny wanted to say. It wasn't enough reason though, and he couldn't help thinking that sending his partner back to the clutches of the Navy was the best solution, even if it meant he would be back to being MIA as far as Danny's concerned.

"I'll be fine, Danny." Steve reassured him, as if reading his mind. "You did your part. Now you need to get out of here. Lou? The Airfield."

"Already on it, McGarrett."

Shortly after, Joe reported that he made contact with the Navy. With military efficiency, it took them less than twenty minutes to inform that a helicopter would be at the remote colombian Airfield within the hour. Their little convoy was due there in thirty minutes, so it meant half an hour of strenuous wait.

The pilot of the private Jet the Governor made available for them looked more than happy to see them, and a bit disappointed that they would not be flying out immediately. But when he saw Steve, he was smart enough to remain silent, and busied himself in some unnecessary pre-flight procedures he probably already made.

Kono found a position on a remote structure roof, Lou was babysitting the jet, Chin and Joe took position next to the big hangar, overlooking the airfield gates. Danny and Doris were in a small shed next to the helipad, with Steve.

Danny did not think it was possible for Steve to look any worse than he already did, and it seemed he was wrong. His partner fought to remain awake, and Danny thanked him silently for that. But it was indeed a battle, and it took its toll. He spoke very little, just random requests for water or some help changing his position, and Danny found he was wishing the helicopter to arrive already, even though it meant Steve would be out of his reach yet again.

"Danny, Three vehicles approaching." Kono's voice in his ear jerked him from his reverie.

He ran out of the small shed they were in, searching the local guy who operated the small airfield. He was not in his position, and nowhere in sight.

"Does anyone have eyes on the field operator?" Danny asked over the comm. It only took a few seconds to get a negative answer from all.

"They look hostile." Kono reported.

"Sonofabitch! How far, Kono?"

"Less than A minute before they reach the south-west gate."

"Stay in position, Lou, did you get that?"

"Roger. How do you want to play it?"

Rage was threatening to take control over him. It took less than a split second to decide he should allow it. But it was Joe who said over the com "We'll take them out."

"Lou, make sure they don't come near the Jet and keep the pilot and Karina inside" Danny barked as he was running back toward the shed where he left Steve with Doris. "We need to keep them at the perimeter so the Medevac can land." He looked at his watch "Ten minutes."

"We need to assume they have MPADS" Joe reminded him. "The Helo cannot approach until the coast is clear."

"Damn, damn, damn!"

Doris was already retrieving weapons and ammunition from the Van. "I'll Take position with Joe and Chin" She informed him, handed him an extra rifle and ran off. He turned back to the shed.

"I have the first Jeep on my sights." Kono announced

"Confirm identity!" Danny shouted urgently. The rational part of his brain still seemed to function. Or maybe it was the hopeful part. In any case they needed to make sure that they were not shooting innocent people while executing a rogue operation on foreign soil. Yes. it was definitely common sense.

"I have Duarte on the second Jeep." Kono crushed what little hope the detective had. He was standing now in front of his partner.

Steve was looking up at him "What's going on?" He Demanded.

"Wheels Kono," Danny affirmed "Take out the Jeep" He crouched in front of Steve. Almost immediately came the sound of a single shot, then a loud crash.

"Got it!" Came her satisfied voice over his earpiece. Then all hell broke loose outside.

"Danny?" Steve insisted again. There was another crash, then some kind of an explosion.

"Duarte is here." Danny explained dryly

Automatic gunfire erupted.

"I need a comm." the SEAL stated.

Danny had an extra one. It was intended for Steve from the start, but giving it to him meant he was an active part of the operation, not just a victim.

Doris's voice came over the com "Joe, I'm Coming with the Van on your six!"

"You are staying here, Steven." Danny looked his partner in the eye.

Three bursts of a shotgun could be heard from somewhere. Danny had to get out there, before someone found his way to the shed.

Steve chuckled. It was a rasp, harsh sound. "I can barely keep myself sitting upright, Danny. I need to know what's going on."

Danny handed him the extra earpiece. "Stay." He ordered again, then ran out, insistently ignoring the voice in his head telling him that his superSEAL partner did not confirm obeying the command, both times he issued it.

He took position behind some crates just outside the shed. The chatter in his ear was kept to minimum, but the sounds of fighting filled the silence. He couldn't see much from his position, and it was frustrating not to be useful, but he dared not wander away from the Shed.  
"The rear jeep is doubling back, I think they locked on my position." Kono warned "I see movement on your ten, Chin, they are going behind the hanger, they will flank you!"

"Doris?"

"I'll handle that!"

Danny could see the van pulling back, then coming to a stop just on the corner of the hangar, across the runway from him.

"Danny," Came Doris's voice, "do you have visual on the Jeep?"

"No. yes! it's coming towards you, three seconds, WHAT THE HELL?" He watched as Doris raced forward, cut the corner, wheels screeching and slammed forward directly into the smaller vehicle.

"I lost visual on the third jeep," Kono warned again

"On my way, Kono" Lou announced "Joe, Chin, you will have to cover the plane"

"Copy that. We have them pinned for now"

It was a war zone. Danny could not remember being so overwhelmed. Usually, with such a big terrain to cover, they had HPD, SWAT or both with them. Gunfire erupted from the direction of Doris and the Van, it was closer to him, but the van effectively blocked his vision. Doris suddenly emerged from its back doors, jumping down and taking cover. He could see she was hurt, blood covered half her face, but her movements were still focused and agile as ever.

"Doris, I can cover the driver's side of the van, keep to the right." He was surprised by the calm assured tone of his own voice. "Kono, Lou, What's your status?" he asked

"Standby" Lou answered.

Danny concentrated in laying some cover fire, but Doris was still pinned, as he could see only one side of the Van clearly.

"We have three bad guys down" Reported Kono, "Returning to station, Lou is on his way back."

For a few seconds, it seemed that the firefight was dying down. He could hear the distinct sound of Kono's sniper rifle, two shots between the bursts of automatic weapon. Then silence. Doris released a few shots, so did he. He heard a shotgun, then Chin reported "Clear".

But then there was another burst of fire, this time very close, and it came at Danny from another direction.

"Shit! Doris, someone is approaching the shed from north west!" He tried raising his head to see if she got cover, but it earned him another burst from both sides.

"On my way!" Came the voices of Lou and Chin at the same time.

An explosion came from Doris's direction, and a hail of bullets ricocheted from the crates and barrels, showering him with sparks and splinters. Another screech of tires came from the direction of the shed, Danny could do nothing but curse and pray Chin and Lou got there soon. Then another noise took over his ear drums, it was a few seconds before he recognized it as a rush of water being released in high pressure, and the sound of gunfire ceased.

The rushing water sound receded, and two quick shots echoed in its stead.

Silence.

Danny dared raising his head above the crates again, slowly.

"Clear." came Doris's voice. He could not see her, and a fire was raging from behind the Van, but what caused him to leap to his feet and run, was the sight of his partner.

Steve was cramped into a ridiculously small driver's cabin of one of the weird Airfield utility vehicles. The side door was open, his left injured leg stretched out. The vehicle was basically a large metal casket with wheels, several hoses coming out of it. One of these hoses was thrown on the pavement, a steady, low stream of water coming out of it.

Five feet away, wet to the bone and lying in a puddle of water that rapidly turned red, was Duarte. He still had a rifle in his hand but it was slumped, fingers twitching slightly. Two red stains were growing on his shirt. Steve was pointing his gun at him, his gaze fixed as Duarte was fighting for each breath, eyes wide with panic.

Danny slowed his pace as he approached the scene, taking it in, scrutinizing Steve.

"Romero Rojas... you... son of a bitch." the SEAL breathed "Romero... and Karina…. Rojas."

Duarte's made a low choking sound, then, with a final twitch of his body his eyes closed.

Steve lowered the gun, his gaze moving slowly to Danny. The detective leaned on the cabin side, reaching out his hand to steady Steve's swaying, pushing him gently against the backrest.

"You took another dose, didn't you?" he said quietly, pursing his lips. It was mostly sadness he felt, the anger spent.

Steve bowed his head, eyes moving away from Danny. A few seconds passed before he answered, his voice just on the verge of audible "Yes."

"Do you have any more of these syringes hidden somewhere?"

Another prolonged silence. Chin and Lou were walking towards them, in a slow tired pace now.

"One more." Steve admitted finally. He was digging in his vest, but Danny put his hand on top of his arm to stop him.

"Give it to the doctors on the Carrier. They need to know what to treat."

Steve didn't answer. Joe was standing a few feet away, a satellite phone to his ear. Doris was now also in sight, walking in their direction, wiping blood off her face.

The silence around them was deafening after the mayhem of guns and explosions.

"You OK?" Steve suddenly asked, his hand pointing at Danny's collar. Danny moved his own hand instinctively to the place, it was wet, the hand came out bloodied. He frowned for a second as the rest of his body caught up with what he was seeing. There wasn't much pain though, It stung, mostly.

"Yeah, probably just some scratches." He took a deep breath, the rush of adrenalin fading, leaving room for exhaustion.

The distinct thump of a helicopter rotor could be heard from a distance. Kono's small figure was running towards them, obvious lightness in her strides. Chin and Lou were crouching next to Duarte's body, verifying his demise. Steve was leaning his head on the side of the cabin, eyelids heavy.

"What's that smell?" Danny was suddenly aware his nostrils are being attacked. He straightened up, looking behind him at the strange looking metal case with wheels that was the utility vehicle. "Is that…? Did you just storm in on a…?"

"Lavatory service cart." Steve completed for him.

Danny broke into uncontrollable laughter.

* * *

 **A/N: Came out a long chapter, Many things happened, but we are almost done...Thanks for your reviews so far. It's really encouraging, causing me to think about the next project already :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I debated for a while with myself, in light of the reviews, if to finish the story with this epilog as initially intended, or to add a comfort-oriented-hospital chapter as several awesome reviewers hinted they wish to see.**

 **I don't think I am very good at this kind of pure-angst-no-action writing, so I decided to end the story with this epilog, but to try and write the comfort part anyway. When it's done I will add it here as an extra chapter, because you are awesome and deserve it.**

* * *

 **Epiloge**

Danny spotted Steve on one of the stone benches outside the building. He sat on the edge of the seat, his left leg stretched forward, only the foot of the cast was visible, the rest of it was hidden under his uniform trousers. He leaned forward, his chin resting on the heel of his palm, the fingers slightly scratching his cheek.

Being home was certainly good for Steve, Danny observed. In the week since they were back he seemed to get some of his weight back, his face looked much less sunken and he looked confident and energetic as ever, even in his currently thoughtful disposition.

The last several weeks weren't very kind to Danny either. The first few days Steve spent on the Carrier, out of his reach, were awful. Although he got frequent updates, and even talked with Steve at times, Danny was pretty sure that his usual doomsday prophecies were nothing compared to the reality Steve was going through, alone. Hurt and deprived of pain relief as the drugs were flushing out of his system. He was completely torn between getting back to his children and staying in Texas, where he knew they will bring Steve once he is stable enough. Doris and Joe stuck around for a while, and Chin convinced him that he'll also stay there to keep an eye on Steve once he got there, so eventually Danny flew back to Hawaii to spend some much needed time with his kids. But once they got the message that Steve is about to be transported back to the mainland, he couldn't help himself and was back in Texas the next day. It was the right decision, he knew it the second he saw Steve again. The injured man was having trouble dealing with his dysfunctional family, the presence of Doris seemed to get him more agitated, and Mary's visit was too emotional. Danny got the distinct feeling that his partner was investing too much effort in hiding his terrible condition and consequent vulnerability, just to make the others feel better. So the detective convinced both women to leave, sent Chin to hold the fort back in Hawaii and kept Steve company through the surgeries he had to endure. Steve didn't talk much, and Danny's attempts at reprimanding his rogue partner seemed dull even to his own ears. So Steve's few wakeful hours were split between exhausting briefings that caused Danny to hate the Navy even more than he thought possible, and silent companionship, broken by short, idle Danny-monologues, that seemed to distract Steve just enough for him to relax.

Both were home now, and in the last few days Danny felt like he was back to his old self, and so was Steve.

But, as Danny guessed, the debriefing today seemed to have rattled Steve. He saw Danny and smiled briefly, the gesture did nothing to soften the somber expression. When he made no move to get up, Danny came closer and sat beside him, resting the crutches he brought with him on the bench.

"That bad, ha?" Danny asked, mirroring Steve's position and leaning forward. Elbows on his knees, fingers interlaced.

Steve rubbed his face, his eyes fixed on something on the ground before him. "Actually...no. They found my actions 'acceptable and in line with the information I had at the time.' There will be further investigation, but my part in it is minor."

"Well, that's... good news?" Danny marked hesitantly

"Yeah." Steve dropped his head for a second, then looked at Danny "I think it's mostly because they were afraid of you, actually." The spark in his eyes was barely noticeable, but it was there.

"They were afraid of **me**?" Danny blinked.

"I don't know what you told them, but they made it a point. They said that they 'trust I can make sure that Detective Williams and my team will not breath a word about the events'."

Danny took a few seconds to examine Steve's expression, trying to determine if he was serious

"Will not breath a word? That's what they said?"

"Well, not exactly in these words, but yes, this was the spirit of things. They really didn't like how you took matters into your own hands. There were even some threats."

"Threats you say! Wow. Does that mean I got an official excuse to use the word 'classified' now?"

Steve smirked "You certainly earned it, my friend."

They fell into silence. Steve still didn't make a move to get up. So Danny carefully asked, "So, what's the problem?"

Steve took a deep breath, an ability he also gained back in the last few days, and released it slowly. "It doesn't change the fact that three good men died under my command."

Danny swallowed his own sigh "No, no it doesn't. But you were the one who told me not to second guess oneself."

"I Know." Steve was silent again, and Danny found himself in the rare position of not being able to say anything else. So he just put his hand on Steve's shoulder, squeezing lightly, and stared into the space in front of him.

"Thanks, Danny." Steve suddenly said, looking at him. Then without warning, he pushed himself up awkwardly from the bench and started hobbling toward the road.

Danny shot up to walk after him, then remembered the crutches and stepped back to grab them which meant he had to ran a few steps to catch up with Steve "Hey, I brought you these," he waved the crutches "you don't have to…"

"Is that my truck?" Steve asked with a slight surprise "I thought Lou was coming with **his** van" He eyed Danny with suspicion, placing his right hand against the car and leaning on it in an obvious attempt to relieve some weight off of his bad leg.

"And **I** thought you were going to use your crutches." Danny retorted.

Steve just shrugged "So what, you just hijacked my truck? Got the keys from my house?" Danny shoved him aside gently then opened the passenger door. "I can open the door myself, Danny" Steve protested.

"Really?" Danny was still standing next to the open door, one hand on the handle, the other waving through the air with the crutches as he spoke "Because I wasn't sure. You were just standing there, using it for support to get some of you weight off your leg, you know...like...umm...crutches."

Steve released a long breath "So you told Lou that you had some lost Steve-nagging time to make-up? Or you could not pass the opportunity to drive my truck with me in the passenger seat?"

"Oh, no, no, that would be something that **you** would do, my friend." Danny's finger pointed at his partner repeatedly "Do not confuse me with the control freak that is you. Why did I ever think it would cross your mind that I might wanted to do something nice for you, like pick you up after I had your filthy truck washed, which might I add, was almost impossible after it just sat there collecting dust for months. I thought you would notice it since you didn't get your precious white uniform dirty while you were using the car as **crutches**."

"It's called a **walking** cast boot for a reason, Danny. " Steve rolled his eyes and pointed to his leg. "You can **walk** with it." He was now fighting to get his casted leg into the cabin then the rest of his body after it.

"That would be true if you did not hurt your knee as well as the foot and the ankle. you were specifically instructed to try and keep off of it as much as possible." If Steve answered, Danny didn't hear it as he slammed the door and walked around to the driver's side.

He was smiling to himself, though. **It was** a nice opportunity, driving Steve's truck with him in the passenger seat.

* * *

 **A/N: This is it! I hope you enjoyed this story, and I would really like to hear from you if you did. If you got this far, I like to hear from you even if you didn't :).**

 **Thanks again to Yul for making the story much more readable, for encouraging, reprimanding, laughing and making this project much more fun in general.**

 **Thanks for the reviews, alerts, favs or just for joining the ride!**


	13. Comfort

**A/N: So here is my attempt at writing 'comfort' part of the H/C. It came out as short scenes, all happening after chapter 11 and before the epilogue- from Steve's arrival to Texas until he is being sent home.**  
 **I'm glad I left it as a separate part from the main story, I think it's different in pace and style. I hope it didn't come out too tedious and you will enjoy it.  
**

 **Here Goes!**

* * *

Danny stood on the edge of the paved platform, watching the Helicopter approach. He was nervous. He told himself he shouldn't be, the hard part was over, Steve was out of the woods, and the jungle, he cannot be worse than when they found him.

He was Steve's friend for a long time, he saw him at his best and at his worst. Hell, he even had a memory of a very similar situation, waiting for a helicopter to bring a battered Steve to safety. It was much worse back then- he had no idea what had happened to his friend, how bad he was hurt after being held by the Taliban. Now he gets him back after several days being held in a medical center on-board a navy carrier, and after the doctors decided he was well enough to travel.

So it really can't be worse than the last time he saw him, several days ago being carried to the Medevac, shivering and groaning, bruised and feverish, pupils wide and glazed.

Danny just needs to breath and calm down.

He ran after the doctor and two orderlies rolling the gurney towards the Helicopter, trying to stay out of their way but fighting to get a glimpse of his friend.

Steve's eyes were closed, but he was frowning slightly as they worked on transferring him to the gurney. His face pale between the colorful bruises, his cheeks looked hollow, dark marks under his sunken eyes. He could not see more of his body as it was hidden under a sheet, but Danny felt that the difference from the last he saw him, was not noticeable enough. Less sweat, less dirt, same miserable condition.

He stepped beside the gurney as the doctor was being updated by the medics that accompanied Steve. He wanted to hear what they had to say, but he wanted to hear Steve even more.

He laid his hand a top of Steve's arm through the sheet and leaned close to him, debating between shouting in his ear so his voice would carry above the helicopter roar, and speaking softly as to not startle his friend. The result was him frozen awkwardly next to Steve's ear and saying nothing.

"He's been mildly sedated for the duration of the journey," He heard the doctor explaining behind him. "So he is probably still a bit groggy."

Danny straightened and nodded, strangely, somewhat relieved. But Steve's arm moved beneath his touch, so he gently fumbled under the sheet and took his hand. He received a light grip in return, and finally said "I'm here, buddy." It was more to himself than to Steve, there was no way the guy heard him, but it really didn't matter.

They allowed him to stay in the room as they settled Steve. The silent, efficient bustle around his partner, serving to calm him down somehow, but it was short lived as his mind insisted on going over the last two weeks in his mind.

It seemed that this was the only thing he was able to do in the couple of days since they were out of Colombia. Tracing the events since the moment he got the news. All a blur of despair and hope, fear and relief. Fighting the thought of Steve being dead, the feeling of helplessness and loneliness as he tried to figure out what to do, the short relief in the news of Steve being alive, then the horrifying knowledge of him being held and tortured. The short relief of seeing him alive then the agonizing realization of the state he was in. seeing him injecting drugs to himself, not being able to help. Then, even after they were out of harm's way, the thought of him all alone, dealing with the aftermath of the torture and drugs.

"You OK, Danny?" The question breaking the silence, being spoken in the voice he waited to hear, brought Danny back to the here and now. Steve was no longer dead, captive or alone.

"Am I OK?" Danny moved closer to Steve's bed, the hospital staff that surrounded him was replaced with IV lines, machinery and the contraption holding his left leg up. "Yes, I am. No thanks to you. No more than bruised ribs and a few stitches. Probably enough nightmares to last a lifetime, of me being dragged under the undercarriage of a truck then trampled under its wheels. Not to mention several hundreds of exotic jungle bug bites all over my skin. No infection luckily, so I guess it could have been worse."

Steve half smiled, it was a tired smile, not reaching his eyes and not doing anything to soften the beaten look. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, a shiver went through his body. The pain seemed to be etched in his features, staying there even after he opened his eyes again and focused on Danny.

"How are you doing, buddy?" Danny inquired.

Steve didn't answer immediately, he looked around him for a few seconds then asked "Are we home?"

That took Danny by surprise, he followed Steve's erratic gazes trying to figure out what evoked that question. "No, no. We are in Brooke medical center...Texas." Steve frowned, his focus turned to the ceiling. "Didn't they tell you that they are sending you here?"

"Yeah...Yeah, I...forgot." Steve kept his eyes on the ceiling.

"How's the pain?" Danny tried again.

Steve closed his eyes again. He shifted uncomfortably in his bed, wincing, but kept silence. Just as Danny was about to give up getting an answer came a whisper "Manageable."

"They gave you something on the way over here. Does that mean you can have some pain meds now?"

Again, prolonged silence. Then a soft "Maybe, I don't know."

Danny blinked. His partner looked like himself, his battered self anyway, but he was definitely not himself. So much not himself, that Danny almost walked out to see maybe they returned the wrong guy. Instead he reached to grab Steve's hand again, but this time Steve pulled away.

"You should go home, Danny. You've done enough." the words were spoken with such detachment, Danny could not understand the meaning. Was Steve worried about him? angry at him?

"More than enough, actually" The retort was instinctive "I am truly glad you noticed. But it will all be pointless if someone here screws up and I get you back broken. I need to keep my eye on you."

Steve release a sigh, lifted his hand to his face and stopped half an inch before actually touching it. His hand fell back to his side, causing the IV line to jingle against the poll it was connected to. When it settled, the room fell into silence.

Danny busied himself with watching the vitals monitor next to Steve's bed. It wasn't producing any sound, just a visual, but he felt like his own heart was providing the missing audio with every jump on screen. He knew it would not be easy, but he did think that the worst was behind them. That he got his friend back. Now it felt like he was as far from him as ever. When Steve seem to sink into an uncomfortable sleep, unable to swallow his groans, to hide his labored breathing, Danny suddenly couldn't take it anymore and stepped outside.

* * *

The first of several surgeries, designed to save Steve's left leg, were a success according to the doctors. It took three long hours though, and Danny was anxious to see Steve, even as the doctor tried to explain to him in length what was done. It sounded to Danny like the doctor was parading himself, and he had little patience for it. The word 'success' was enough.

So when they finally let him into the recovery area, he stormed in and stopped dead in his tracks at what he saw.

Steve was intubated. Wide green tube crawled out of his mouth and a hard, mechanical whooshing sound accompanied every rise and fall of his chest.

"What happened?!" He exclaimed, his eyes fixed on his partner "I thought everything went well! Why is he on a respirator?!"

The nurse that accompanied him to the room looked at him "Don't worry, Commander McGarrett is fine. It is a common complication in addicts…"

Danny's gaze shot at her, flashing with anger "He is not an addict!"

"Yes, I know, I'm sorry." the nurse squirmed "Bad choice of words." She tried an apologetic smile, but it was too late for her. Danny hated her already. "What I meant to say is that during detoxification, heavy sedatives such as these required in surgery, may cause respiratory failure. It is not uncommon that mechanical ventilation is needed. Once the anesthesia will begin to wear off, it is most likely he will not need it anymore."

As if on cue, Steve started to make choking sounds, and the heart monitor beeped slightly faster.

Danny tensed, and the nurse laid a hand on his arm, but he flinched

"It's OK," she said, obviously trying to use her voice after the touch failed "It's a good sign, I'll get the Doctor."

Danny placed his hand carefully on Steve's shoulder. "Easy buddy, you are fine. Just relax."

* * *

"Commander, please, you are hurting me." The nurse's voice was calm and soothing despite the obvious death grip on his wrist.

Steve's gaze was focused on the syringe he was holding in that hand. "I don't know you." He said in an equally calm voice, but the sweat beading on his forehead and the slight tremor in his jaw were enough for Danny to see through it.

"Hey, Steve, it's fine…" Danny tried to defuse the situation

Steve ignored him, eyes piercing the nurse "What are you... trying to do?"

"You discussed it with the doctor earli..." _the doctor._ The poor nurse had no idea how bad his choice of words was. He cried in pain as Steve twisted his wrist and the syringe fell from his grip.

"Steve!" Danny laid his hand on top of Steve's "Come on, release him, it's fine…"

"Danny...he tried to... inject this thing..." Steve was breathing hard, chest heaving, but it seem to have no effect on the hold he had on the nurse

"It's fine, Steve, come on, look at me." he applied slight pressure on his hand "We talked about it this morning…"

"But...I don't...I don't...know him...and I...I can't brea…"

"Yes, that is why you need this, babe, it's antibiotics, they worry you might developed pneumonia…"

Steve was finally looking at him, Danny put his other hand on his shoulder, at the base of his neck, his fingers squeezing lightly, "Trust me, buddy. It's the drug, it still messes with your brain. It's fine, you are safe, this guy is Lieutenant Tusan, OK? He is from the hospital staff." Steve's hand was still tense, but Danny felt the grip loosen. The injured SEAL blinked a few time, His gaze wandering between Danny, his hand and the nurse.

"I thought...Duarte..."

"Duarte is dead." Danny's statement came a little more harsh than he meant, but it seemed to pull Steve's attention again. "The Doctor is dead. You killed them. You are safe. Let the guy treat you, buddy. OK?"

The SEAL finally released the nurse, who pulled back and hissed. Steve Looked at Danny for a few seconds, the confusion in his eyes settling "Yeah...Yeah…" he leaned his head back, looking at the nurse who was now picking the syringe off the floor "I'm sorry... Lieutenant…"

"It's OK, Commander." Lieutenant Tusan smiled kindly, "I should have introduced myself, I thought you were sleeping." he held the syringe and looked at Steve. "May I?"

Steve nodded, and swallowed. Danny kept the reassuring touch on his shoulder, as the medicin was injected to his IV line. When the nurse left, and Steve's eyes began to flutter, he sighed in relief.

"Well, That went much better than our first meeting. At least you didn't get punched."

* * *

Danny really thought it was safe to leave Steve's room for just a few minutes. Steve actually encouraged him to do so. He was in a good mood, which was rare and fickle these days, and since no surgery was planned until the day after tomorrow, Steve practically begged to have some real food, and lots of it. Safe, right?

He really should have known better.

As he approached the door, he could hear that Steve was no longer alone. Doris's voice came out reproachful and too loud.

"You could show some gratitude, honey."

"I am!" Came Steve's annoyed voice. Danny stood just outside the door, he could imagine the face his partner was wearing right now and couldn't help the wince "I am grateful you found this important enough to clear your schedule! I just can't help wondering about your motives to drag my team into this."

"Oh, for god sake, Steven! I didn't drag anyone, why can't you just believe that we were all worried…"

"I believe you, Doris," Steve sounded as if he was at the end of his rope. Danny wasn't sure if he should come in or not. "I know you were worried. I just...I don't know why are you here."

"Really? You don't know why I'm here."

There was silence. Danny used it to as a sign to come in. He didn't really want to but he braved it.

Doris stood in front of Steve's bed, her hands crossed on her chest, her lips pursed to a thin line, her eyes brimming with tears. Steve was looking at his hands, his face pale and strained. Both McGarretts looked at him as he came in, their expression changing from miserable to hopeful. Danny had no idea what was expected of him. He just mourned the loss of the good mood.

"Ready for some food?" he presented the bag he was holding, took a deep breath, stepped into the ring and started pulling packages out of the bag. "Or do you want me to leave so you may continue….whatever it is you were doing to help in the speedy recovery of superSEAL here." He had no intention of leaving of course. In fact, if he wasn't dealing with a slightly leaking soup box he would probably physically drag Doris out of the room.

He was grateful, she was very helpful in the take-down-the-bad-guys part, more than could be said about most mothers, but right now her unique motherly skills were not helpful.

"No, no. I'll let you eat." Doris picked her bag and leaned down to kiss her son's cheek. "I'll see you later, honey"

When the door closed after her, Steve let out a long, noisy breath. At least Danny thought it was meant to be long, but it was limited by the partial capacity of the injured man's lungs.

"You know," Danny started as opened few containers of food "my mom once infiltrated the principal's office and took him down to get me out of unrightful detention. It was really embarrassing, I know how you feel."

Steve looked at him, a strange expression on his face. But then a slight smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, I bet." he answered and moved his attention to the food. "You are doing it wrong, you should put the spice after you mixed in the sauce."

* * *

Steve was taking short labored breaths through his nose, like he was gulping the weak stream of oxygen supplied by the nose cannula. His eyes were shut, jaw clenched, brow creased.

It was obvious to Danny that he was fighting. Maybe the pain. Maybe something else.

He approached Steve's bedside. The question 'you ok?' was already so worn, so used, so pointless at this time that it didn't even make it all the way to his lips and got stuck like a lump in his throat.

Danny swallowed, grasped his friend's hand, letting Steve curl his fingers around his. Steve turned his head towards him and opened his eyes for a second, as if reassuring himself it was Danny by his side. He closed them again, but left his head turned.

"Rachel sent me Grace's video from her cheerleaders' show." Danny started casually, "You know, the one I missed while you were being an army man?" Steve grimaced. "Yeah, navy, I know. Anyway, I must tell you that it's absolutely ridiculous, the outfits they are putting these girls in. I mean, you know they are hanging around these teenage hormone containers, right?" Steve eyes moved beneath his closed eyelids "I am not overreacting here, you remember how it was being a teenager! Or do they condition the hormone distraction out of you in SEAL school? I am seriously considering five-0 sponsorship to the team, that way we get to design the uniform…

* * *

"I thought you were dead, Steve. They told me you were gone." Mary seated herself on Steve's bed, facing her brother, one leg pulled beneath her, the other dangling from the bedside.

"I know, Mare, I'm sorry, I'm fine now, very much alive."

Danny thought that it was the fifth time that Steve said that in the last ten minutes. Not that he was counting.

"And you know, I kept thinking how unsurprising it was, it seem I keep losing everyone close to me, why would it be any different when it came to my big brother?"

"You are not losing me, Mary, I'm here"

"Yes, now, but what if Danny didn't…they gave up on you, you know? And I did too. I'm so sorry Steve, I gave up on you, I thought…"

Danny grimaced in empathy as she leaned forward, placing herself on Steve's bruised chest. But aside from a brief frown passing his features, the SEAL seem to swallow his pain. He Hugged his sister, kissed the top of her head, and said nothing.

* * *

Danny didn't understand this, not one bit, but the Navy SEAL accepted it, so he felt he had little choice but to comply. Then as if the concept of questioning Steve in his current state was not enough, Danny was pushed out, almost literally. No one, including Steve, bothered to look even remotely apologetic. He was there. He knew what happened, he knew how, why, and where. So why the hell did they insist he should leave?

It's been almost two hours. The damn super sailor must be exhausted by now, he needs to rest, yet they are forcing him to relive this nightmare. Why did it have to be now?

The door to Steve's room finally opened. One might think that two hours would be enough to subdue at least some of the anger. It wasn't. He managed to keep his fists at bay as the three officers left the room, having the audacity to give him a courteous nod, but he regretted it once he entered the room and saw Steve. A few hours later Danny promised himself he would find them and beat them senseless, as he woke to the unsettling sound of the SEAL whimpering.

It was a dream. A nightmare. Steve was breathing hard, coughing lightly between moans and... begging.

Danny's own breath hitched as he approached the bed, placed his hand on Steve's shoulder and pressed lightly. "Steve? Hey, buddy, wake up."

Steve tensed under his touch, hand clutching the sheets and pressing against the bed. His eyes flew open, he tried getting up, fighting against Danny's hand. "I need…!" he started, looking around in confusion. Then, when his darting eyes met Danny's, he took a deep breath and groaned painfully as he sagged back.

"What do you need, buddy?" Danny asked gently, but he knew the answer even as the question left his mouth, and he regretted articulating it.

"Nothing!" Came Steve's abrupt, almost panicked answer. Then another, soft, tired "nothing…"

"Are you in pain? You want me to get the nurse?"

"No. They can't give me anything that would help." He avoided Danny's eyes, and there was so much anger in his admission, like he was reflecting Danny's own state of mind that was temporarily buried under the concern.

"They can keep those damn Navy inquisitors off your back." Danny huffs in anger

"What?" Steve turned his head, finally looking at him.

"I said that they could have kept those Navy SOBs off your back."

"Yeah, I heard that." Steve's voice almost sounded normal again "They were just doing their job, why are you angry?"

"Why am I…" Danny cackled "I am angry, Steve, because we are talking in zero-one-hundred" he spat the the navy-style time description as if it was a curse "instead of sleeping, because you were visiting that place in your head again, because after a good couple of days you were again wishing for that drug." Danny's hands were flying, he could see Steve's expression changing back to shameful, his eyes leaving Danny and searching the ceiling, but the frustrated, furious detective could not stop. "Because all of the above, with no doubt, has something to do with the two hours of grilling you had to go through today!"

"Danny…"

"What did they do? Did they ask for every little bit of gory detail like it was a horror movie?"

"Dann…"

"Are they planning to reenact the atrocities to be documented on videos? Because I am telling you right now," His finger pointed repeatedly to the floor "I am not going to let them into this room. ever. Again."

The door opened, and the night nurse stepped in, hurrying to Steve's bed "What is going on here?" she demanded in a hushed voice "You should be resting, Commander" she used her hands to check all the lines connected to Steve's body, but her eyes were bent on Danny

"It's OK," Steve reassured her "I just...woke..."

She continue to ignore Steve completely, keeping her attention on Danny, "You were allowed to stay here under the assumption that you will not disturb the Commander, Detective Williams. I **will** ask you to leave if you can't control yourself.."

"Oh, that's…" Danny threw his hands in the air, but he lowered his voice to match hers "That is fantastic. You want to kick **me** out. Where were you this morning?"

* * *

flights always seem longer on the way back.

Danny was anxious to get home. he missed his kids, his work, his bed, his coffee machine, the annoying screeching sound the kitchen window made when it was opened, he even missed the combined stench of heavy traffic and the ocean. And he missed Steve.

It was stupid, his friend was beside him almost twenty-four-seven in the last few weeks, he was beside him right now, dozing on a very uncomfortable seat that he chose to occupy instead of the cosy bed they've set up for him in the military cargo plane.

But he still missed him.

And he hoped that getting home would also mean getting him back.

Steve suddenly opened his eyes, jumping back to complete awareness in no time, just as his old self. He looked at his right wrist, probably at his watch that wasn't there, and then at Danny.

"How long?" He asked, yawning.

"About three more hours." Danny answered. "And if you are not going to use the bed, I will"

"Go ahead." Steve answered grumpily "Just remember to fasten the restraints."

"It's not restrains, it's a seatbelt, Commander," Protested Lieutenant Tusan from his seat "to keep you from falling off with every jolt of the plane. And I really think **you** need to use the bed."

Danny didn't think Steve would answer. It seemed that he made a point from ignoring the nurse that accompanied them on the trip. But Steve snapped. "I don't care what you think."

Tusan huffed and looked at Danny.

"I bet you regret volunteering for this right about now." The Detective told him, and smirked.

"Are you kidding me? I've never been to Hawaii. As long as the commander keeps his ninja routine to himself, I'm good."

It was Steve's turn to huff, and Danny chuckled.

"Just...keep out of his personal space." Danny advised

"That would make my job much more difficult" the nurse contemplated

"Personal safety first!" Danny stated. "What are you doing, babe?" the SEAL suddenly fought to get up. Both Danny and Tusan shot upwards, forgetting all previous talk about Steve's personal space when he swayed dangerously trying to balance himself on one leg.

"Hopefully, shutting the both of you up." Steve declared angrily, tilting his head towards the bed.

By the time they reached it, all three were drenched in sweat. Steve lay back closing his eyes, Danny could see he was tired, probably in pain. But when the nurse moved to secure the straps around his chest, the SEAL's hand caught his wrist. Danny silently commended the nurse for not flinching. "Wait...just...give me a second." Steve breathed.

Tusan stood frozen for few seconds. When the grip loosened and he nodded, the nurse took Steve's left hand in his and guided it to the buckle. "You can leave your hand here, Commander." he guided Steve's fingers "you just pull that back, like this, and the belt is released."

"I know how to work a belt, Tusan" Steve answered, but without heat. And he kept his hand where Tusan left it.

"That's a relief." Tusan answered with a slight smile. He fixed the second belt around his thighs "I'm gonna keep that one loose. Can you get to it with your right hand?" Steve stretched his fingers and touched the buckle. "Good. Now, I think you should take something for the pain."

"Oh, gees, just, stop thinking, Lieutenant." Steve ordered.

Danny smiled at the nurse reassuringly "Not long, buddy." He comforted all three of them "we will be home soon."

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 **A/N: As always, reviews would be appreciated. thanks!**


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